A Ring of Endless Light
by Fan Fictional Authoress
Summary: When we left, did the world stop? Did it cease to exist? Or did the world pause, mourning for our loss, before slowly and painfully moving on? No. It simply kept turning, kept moving, with or without us. We were the only ones who refused to let go. Until they found us, and showed us how to feel alive. It isn't so bad to be forgotten, for you will be found and treasured once again.
1. Monophobia

**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.**

_**Disclaimer:**__** All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

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_N__ó__rui the fifteenth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

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Honor Rae opened her eyes to see green in almost all shades of it. Her eyes slowly focused and the canopy of trees came into focus; sunlight softly filtering through the gaps of leaves. The rushing of water could be heard in the background and felt by her legs which were still in it. Her legs were tingling; icy pins seemed to stab them repeatedly as the water tugged on them, trying to sweep her away once again.

Her body seized and she rolled over onto her hands and knees; her lungs rejecting the river water in them. Honor Rae wheezed as the last of it was ejected from her freezing body, falling into a crumpled heap she laid there, and tried to recollect her thoughts.

It had all started when Honor Rae and her self-proclaimed sister, Laura, had gone out for a picnic while preparing to go to a Zelda LARP. Their game master, Alex Hardman, had declared that it was their turn to play Green and Blue. They both had protested at first saying that they role-played better as Red and Vio. Alex had scolded them; telling them how it wasn't fair to others and that any true role-player should be able to adapt to any role given to them.

They had reluctantly agreed with Alex and promised that they would try their best. It was Honor Rae who had suggested that they should go and have a picnic before meeting up with the rest of the group. Laura had heartily accepted the idea; so off they went. They choose a spot on the cliffs overlooking the St. Croix River with the Minnesotan wilderness surrounding them. They had finished their delicious lunch of sandwiches, Grandma's homemade potato salad, and peach ice tea.

They had another forty-seven minutes before they had to pack up and leave, so they had decided to meander along the ledge of the cliff. It was a fool hardy idea; the ground had crumbled under Laura's feet and she fell backwards. Honor Rae had grabbed onto her friend pulling her back up to safety. They had sighed in relief, only for Honor Rae to meet the same fate. Laura hadn't reacted fast enough to catch her, so she jumped into the murky water below to retrieve her sister.

Honor Rae couldn't swim and had never been able to before. When she hit the water; she had panicked, doing her very best to tread water, not swallow any water, and stay afloat. After a short time of struggling; she gave up, too tired to keep fighting. Honor Rae sank slowly to the river's bottom; she felt strangely calm and wasn't swallowing water as she first thought. There was no panic or pain, just a peaceful feeling of warmth and love. To her surprise, she could see and even breathe underwater. A strange but beautiful light suddenly engulfed her.

The light was so bright and beautiful; it did not blind her eyes. She could look directly into the light without squinting. Honor Rae could hear music, which sounded like angels singing, and felt the presence of people around her whispering, but could not see them. Honor Rae had thought to herself, 'Am I dead? Is this the way you feel when you die?'

She had no comprehension about time or how long she was in that state of mind. She felt safe and protected in a place that she knew nothing about. The peaceful presence of her well-being was almost euphoric to her. That was the last thing she saw and felt before being hit with a piece of rubbish that was being tossed about down the strong river currents.

Then she had woken up on this river's shore. Did she simply wash up on the bank of the river? How far downstream had she been dragged? Was Laura okay? She clenched her hands, "I thought I was a goner…" Honor Rae looked to the left and to the right. 'Did Laura get dragged further downstream, or did she lose sight of me and land somewhere upstream?'

Honor Rae was stuck with a problem. Should she go upriver and get help while possibly meeting up with Laura? Or, should she go downstream where she would get further into the wilderness and also possibly meet up with Laura? If she went upstream, she could run into some people, get some help, and could start a search party. If she went downstream without help, she would probably sign the death warrant for both herself _and_ Laura. Besides, if Laura was downstream, she'd be heading upstream.

With that in mind, Honor Rae dragged herself off the ground; feeling cold and wet. Checking the flow of the water, she edged away from it, and started to walk in the opposite direction, going upstream.

* * *

'Slogging my way through the forest; cold, wet, and half-drowned is not my idea of a good time. This is hands down, the worst day of my life.' I tripped over a root, scrapping my hands and knees; and then felt the overwhelming urge to cry. I bit my lip and told myself to suck it up. 'Come on, you're a country bumpkin Minnesotan. You're stronger than this; remember your Girl Scout training? Granted, you were only able to make the rank of a brownie scout captain, but that has to count for something!' I rubbed my eyes dry, unwittingly leaving small smears of blood on my face.

I got up again, and continued my way, hopefully, towards civilization and help. However, I kept tripping and stumbling, to my complete puzzlement. There were times when I did trip over my own two feet, but never this constantly before…

I looked down and saw that the boots, which previously had fitted me perfectly before, had grown several sizes too big. Didn't clothes shrink instead of grow? Speaking of my clothes; everything grew, not just my boots. I stopped completely and give myself another once over.

Maybe my clothes didn't change sizes, but rather myself? Only one way to find out… I lifted the collar of my tunic up and glanced down. Yup, they were gone. My round, chubby belly and my breasts were gone. Yes, it was a crude way to find out, but it was the easiest way to prove myself correct. I was also tempted to check my legs to see if my leg hair still existed, but I resisted, my lacking "baby fat" was proof enough.

I had regressed and have become a child again.

To be honest, I didn't really know how to react. I mean, how _would_ a person react if they found out that they had regressed a few years physically? I certainly didn't know how to handle it. In fact, I started to believe that this was all a dream; a realistic dream, yes, but still a dream. That was the only logical decision I could come to, there wasn't much else I could think of in the way of explaining this.

I don't think _anyone_ could explain this, I mean this isn't _The curious case of Benjamin Button_. If this is real, I'm going to become "the curious case of Honor Rae." Of course, when problems like this arrive on my personal self, I do like what I always did; I ignored it. That was my only coping mechanism.

Suddenly, an idea struck me. What if I died and this was the afterlife? It would make sense, how else would I regress? Also, what about that dream I had while I was drowning? If I was right though, this would be a messed up afterlife. So, now I had two explanations for my situation. One, I was dreaming; or two, I had died and this was the afterlife. Fear started to leak through my senses, for in either case I was alone.

Being in a strange and alien place was bad enough, but I couldn't stand the thought of being completely and utterly _alone_. I had few people that were precious to me, but those people were all I had. Never seeing them again was a crushing concept. Sometimes, I think I suffered from monophobia. I stumbled again, and decided to look where I was going.

Up ahead was a clearing in the trees, it was a large plain. Not a meadow, for those were relatively smaller than this almost endless field. It had a few trees spotted randomly around and the large flowing river. Purple snow capped mountains loomed over in the distance. Heather and long grass flowed in the breeze. A bird circled over head and let out a brief call before disappearing; silence soon reigned after words.

The lack of animal sounds left me apprehensive, some was wrong with this picture, but I didn't know what. I put those pessimistic thoughts in the back seat for the moment so I could concentrate on the matters at hand. I searched for any other signs of life.

To my dismay, the surrounding area was abandoned and there wasn't a living soul in sight. It was getting close to evening when I had entered the plain and I knew I had to get moving on my merry little way. The farther I got the better; surely I would reach something if I kept going forward, wouldn't I?

I don't know exactly how long I'd have to wander before I find something or more importantly someone, but hopefully it won't take very long. Of course, this was my optimistic side talking and not my logical one. I truly had no balance between my pessimism and optimism; sometimes I could be really irritating.

The plain I was on didn't have any hills and was rather flat. There was long grass that covered the whole thing which came up to my chin; in other words, they were about as long as a yardstick. In a way it was like the Great Plains in Montana, Kansas, and whatever other states that the Great Plains are in. The long grass rippled and waved in the slightly cold breeze that worked its way towards me. Clouds were gathering in the skies in different hues, but they mostly stayed to darker tones with some yellows and was that… green?

I frantically tried to remember that old adage my grandpa used to say. I think it was 'Red at night, sailors' delight. Red in the morning, sailors take warning?' I struggled to recall what color the sky was earlier that day to no success. I just knew that seeing hints of yellow with green were signs of future bad weather.

I needed to find shelter to prepare myself. I was surrounded by tons of green things that weren't of any use and nearly screamed in frustration, until I saw a splotch of gray further on. Up ahead was an outer cropping of rocks; I raced towards it, hoping that there were no bears hidden inside it. In a closer inspection of it from twenty feet or so away, it soon became apparent that this was actually an old stone fort.

A mostly decrepit stone fort, granted, but a fort nonetheless.

It was two stories tall, made out of weathered stone that had ivy scaling up the side of it. I cautiously entered inside of it through the missing door that lead to the entry way. A stone wall had fallen in and parts of it had simply crumbled to dust. Moss and ivy had over run the walls, the floors had ferns growing inside of the common room, and wild flowers had made their home in the room adjacent to it. In total there were about five rooms, including the entry way where I was at the moment.

The walls and part of the roof caved in three of them; the fourth, which used to be the kitchen, had become impassable because of a supporting beam that had collapsed bringing about half the wall with it. The only place that looked remotely hospitable was the guard outpost which was the only room on the upper floor.

Past the creaking, slightly-decayed stairs and behind the rotten door was a deserted room. Nothing was in the windswept room but weapons that were rusted beyond any foreseeable use. Gray stone walls surrounded me, all looking exactly the same. The wooden floors beneath me groaned with each step I took and a suspicious stain in the far corner didn't make me feel any better about where I was at the moment.

My uncomfortable situation was made worse with the clamping and churning of my stomach; which was growling and gurgling underneath my tunic. I had been ignoring it for the past few hours and had grown highly uncomfortable with it. However, there was nothing I could do to fix that right now, so I made my way to a corner that faced away from the broken glass window, and then I laid down.

The room slowly grew dark as I attempted to fall asleep. What I wouldn't give for my nightlight right now. It was pathetic that a fifteen year old girl still needed a nightlight, but I always had an innate fear of the dark. Laura said it was probably caused by my step dad shutting me in the dark garage because I didn't want to eat any fried seaweed, or whatever nori is, when I was nine something years old.

I don't think that was the cause of it, because I was afraid of the dark long before I was nine. However, that incident was one of the many reasons why I was scared of not finishing everything on my plate and making people angry. I think it's easy to say that I was never a picky eater ever again, not that I was in the first place; but I think it was perfectly safe to say that I was, and still am, a spoiled brat.

I also couldn't help but have a foolish fear of the sounds around me. Every squeak of the floor had been a rat, every groan of the stairs had been a vengeful ghost, and every howl of the wind had been a ravenous wolf ready to eat me alive. My heart refused to slow and let me calm down; it was going so fast, I was afraid that the only way for it to slow down would be if it stopped completely.

I heard a bang downstairs and bit my tongue holding back a scream. Trembling, I listened to see if I could hear anything else. There were the sounds of things shifting and falling, and then deafening silence. A metallic taste filled my mouth and a liquid dribbled down my chin; I had bitten too hard and caused my tongue to bleed. I wiped away the blood and cautiously headed towards the door, wanting to find out what the noise was.

I froze at the sound of more things shifting around, and decided against it. I tip-toed back to my corner and slowly slid to the ground, rocking back and forth as the sounds grew louder. Finally it ended with a huge crashing sound and splintering wood. I started crying completely scared out of my wits, as the last of it echoed through the whole place. I couldn't stand the silence and started to whimper the song _Sweet Sacrifice_.

"It's true, we're all a little… insane; but it's so clear… now that I'm… unchained… Fear is only in our minds, taking over all the time… Fear is only in our minds, but it's taking over all the time…" My voice kept cracking and I couldn't continue, but instead I hummed the rest of the song quietly to myself. By the time I finished; I was still jumpy, but I was no longer hysterical. I said a quick prayer out loud in a whisper, closed my eyes, and fell into an uneasy slumber.

* * *

_N__ó__rui the sixteenth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

The next morning brought me a small panic attack. Yesterday's nightmarish memories had yet to return to me; so I jumped to the conclusion that I had been kidnapped and brought into an abandoned warehouse. After fretting over nothing and nearly having an unwarranted aneurism; I remembered the events of yesterday and became rather solemn. The only real bright side that I could see to this was I had survived the night here in this outpost. I stiffly got to my feet and warily made my way to the door, remembering the sounds from yesterday.

I opened the door; only from my heart to first make a lump in my throat, then to sink and ooze in a puddle, near my feet, on the floor. The stairs that I had climbed up yesterday had given out, how was I to get down now? I swooned on my feet at the wave of despair that suddenly overwhelmed me.

Was I never to leave this place?

Should I just place myself over that stain in the corner and let my skeleton be found on it, so people would be led to the idea that I had been given when I had first saw it?

That someone had been wounded and probably died there?

Like them, would this become my grave after I've died a lonely death?

Tears blurred my vision and my legs gave out underneath me. For the second time since my possible death, I wept uncontrollably.

I generally didn't cry from situations like this. I usually had to be provoked into crying and those were, more often than not, tears of anger rather than anything else. I started choking on my own tears, my face felt sore from my upset expression, and I also felt like I was sweltering from my red face. I hated crying when I was stressed out like this; it was an ugly experience for both me and any other witnesses.

How anyone could be able to cry gracefully in those Hallmark movies were beyond me. I always needed at least one box of tissues for those.

Now wasn't the time for hysterics; I _had_ to escape this death trap, I _would_ escape this death trap, but the question was _how_? When I managed to relatively calm myself down and take a few extra deep breaths, I began to try to fix my situation. I studied the gap between the ledge where I was at the door and the floor on the lower level, which was around seven feet.

I knew for a fact I would flat out break my ankles if I tried to jump down at this height, for I wasn't the most athletic person in the world; anyone could have told you that much. However, where I wasn't athletic, I was resourceful and forward-thinking. I moved back to the window; looking for a tree, there was none to my dismay. I stared at the ledge thoughtfully.

Getting onto my feet, I stretched my arms above my head and went to the nearest wall, trying to guess how high my reach was. I estimated that I was about three and a half feet tall, plus about one foot for my arms, giving me about four and a half feet. Seven feet minus four and a half feet left me around two and a half feet; now that was something I could jump.

I walked back to the ledge and looked at it again almost wildly. "Oh, there's no way I can jump that!" I bemoaned to myself, the drop looking farther and farther down with each passing second. "But I must…" I made a whimpering sound and paced around the room feeling much like a prisoner heading for the hangman's noose.

I made my way back and gave the ledge another shuddering glance before trying and failing to give myself a pep talk. Finally, I declared, "Don't think about it, just go, and do it!" Not looking down as much as I could afford to avoid, I gripped onto the ledge, and extended my body as far as I could reach without letting go. I swayed a bit from where I hanged and knew that there was no going back, because I wouldn't be able to drag myself back up there.

That left my only other option, which was the last thing I wanted to do at the moment, but the one thing that was inevitable for me to do. I start swinging back and forth like I was on the monkey bars. The familiar motion comforted me enough to where I was relaxed enough to let go as soon as I was moving forwards.

I wind milled my arms uselessly in my quick decent to the floor and landed heavily in the pile of rubbish that used to be the stairs. I may not have broken my ankles, but I did manage to scrape some of the skin off my back, I could feel it. It wasn't bleeding, but it was sore and stung worse than a bumble bee. I let out a gasp of pain at the pulsing sensation that… burned, for lack of a better word.

I had some splinters that I took off of myself and I had a few bruises, but I was relatively unharmed. It was a miracle for me to be this unscathed. I was sure that I had all the pieces of wood out of me; but one part of my back still hurt like you wouldn't believe. I couldn't see what was causing it, so I gave up on it temporarily.

I was still alive. The thought came with a sense of euphoria. I was out of there and still breathing! The relief was so great; I simply stayed down on the remains of the stairs. I couldn't move for a few minutes, the mixture of relief, exhaustion, and hunger left me zapped of energy. I continued to stay there for a bit and then hauled myself back onto my feet. I had to leave before the rest of the place crashed down on me.

I passed the wild flower room, the used to be kitchen, the fern room, and made it outside of the entry way mostly intact. The sun wasn't out like yesterday. There was a perpetual gray color that covered the canvas-like sky. The storm clouds loomed overhead with a menacing feel to it. The heavens almost seemed to hold onto their water and were probably brewing a big storm. The very plain gave the impression of holding its breath, waiting for the clouds to release their rage out upon it.

This wasn't good at all, I had to find shelter, but I didn't want to go back into that outpost for fear it would collapse on me. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Be outside during a storm, or be inside under a shelter that could collapse on me. I think it's safe to say that I would prefer a little rain over being squashed like a bug, besides I might find some new shelter that was safer for me.

Checking the river, I started heading upstream once again. I commenced on taking note of the surround area for a place that wasn't an abandoned guard outpost and could provide me some decent shelter from the oncoming storm. A ditch, a boulder, a thicket, some trees, and a river; none of the above could provide me a safe place from the storm. Nothing except for maybe the grouping of trees in the far distance; the only down side was that it would take me a few hours to reach there at the snail's pace I was moving at.

It's not that I wanted to be moving that slow, but my stamina wasn't at its best.

I couldn't afford to waste any more energy than I already had. I wasn't a root and berry expert; so I couldn't forage and get some safe-to-eat foliage, not that there was any in the first place. I couldn't bring myself to kill some innocent rabbit that had to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. However, it wouldn't matter because there weren't any bunnies hopping around, I had nothing to hurt them with, and I would get an asthma attack trying.

Well, if worse came to worst; I could always eat ants. Ants, pound for pound, had more protein than beef did and less fat than beef too. The only downside is that it would take a whole lot of ants for one measly pound…

Ants aside, maybe I could go fishing? I didn't have a fishing rod, bait, hook, or even a net! Heck, a bent sharp pin with some string attached to a stick would work if I dug for earthworms! Sadly, I didn't have any string, the pins were firmly attached to my clothes, furthermore all the sticks pulled a Houdini and made a disappearing act. And why dig for worms when I had no use for them?

Maybe I could make a river trap… All I had to do was find a shallower part of the river, a stream, or a creek. Then I would take some big river stones and make a dam curved in the downward flow of the water leaving a small portion for the stream to go by. I simply have to wait a while for the fish to go into the dam and close the only exit, which is the way they came in, and voila! Dinner for one or however many people you have; all you had to do is repeat the same thing all over again.

A monstrous peal of thunder startled me out of my food gathering plots. I needed to find cover and soon. I picked up my pace; I had resigned myself to the fact that I would most likely get wet, but I didn't want to be stuck out in the rain longer than necessary. I love rain, but I disliked storms; especially if I was caught outside during one. I didn't want to tempt fate more than I already have by staying out here longer than was called for.

I think it was just me, but the forest appeared closer than it was previously! I gave a half-hearted cheer to myself only to fall flat on my face, thanks to a tangle in the long grass I was in. Growling, I thrashed around exasperated with all the metaphoric cow manure I've had to put up with in the past two days.

"Why? Why, why, why? I just want to go _home_." I moaned, whining like the six-year-old I was inside. I rolled onto my back and winced at the discomfort it caused to my skinned back. The steady throbbing hurt and only got worse the longer I stayed on my back; but I didn't want to get up. I wondered if I really _had_ to get up or if I could just lie here and not move, surrounded by what looked like Cogon grass.

I couldn't be sure if it was Cogon grass, because again I'm not exactly an expert. I'm better with garden variety flowers or extremely deadly/dangerous/painful plants like the Coyotillo, Nightshade, or the Death Campas. It's one of the many strange hobbies I have, I know. However, I know absolutely nothing useful about roots or berries unless I wanted to kill myself.

Not very helpful at the moment, I was trying to _not_ die. Which brings the subject of shelter back in to focus.

I hauled myself back onto my, admittedly sore, feet to return to my journey the trees. The rumbling overhanging and overbearing clouds weren't going to go away anytime soon, and not without raining on my "parade." I spent close to an hour marching through the plain when it all come crashing down on me. It didn't take long for me to get completely soaked through.

It was almost as if I jumped in the river for a quick swim. I was a little over half way to the forest, maybe… if I was lucky…which I'm not. I shivered violently from the water slithering down my back, cold as an ice cube. I had to keep moving to stay warm, if I didn't I'd get hypothermia for sure. There was no question about that.

My vision was minimal, if that, in this weather. For all I knew, my next step would land me in the river and into my certain death. I listened for the torrent of water that rushed wildly downstream through the onslaught of pouring rain and tried to keep myself from getting too close. Lightning flashed, causing the surrounding area to briefly light up around me, allowing a short view of where I was at the moment.

I was alarmingly close to what used to be the banks of the river; which had over flown and no longer existed at the moment, being completely covered with water. The deafening roll of thunder resulted in my leap away from the bank and sprint to the woods as fast as my legs could carry me.

There weren't any thoughts running through my head other then my chanting of, 'It's going to be okay. I'm going to be okay. Laura's going to be okay. Everything _will_ be okay. Everything _has_ to be okay.' Another clap of thunder scared me out of my wits.

…Someone was screaming… _I_ was screaming and _I couldn't stop_.

Terror started bubbling to the surface of my thoughts. My breathing was quickening to the point of me hyperventilating. I was wailing and crying for mercy, terrorized and irrational. I was going down the road of a full-blown panic-attack.

I started choking and gasping for air over my sobs. I kept running, ignoring my complaining lungs, until a stitch in my side started to form. 'Not now, not now, please not right now!' I had to stop, my harsh breathing not allowing any other decision. I was wheezing now, sounding like a dying horse after it ran the Kentucky Derby and just before its heart gave out.

These were the beginnings of an asthma attack for me.

Fumbling for the pocket in my long sleeved shirt, which was under my tunic, I took out my inhaler. I took a few puffs before stashing it back in the pocket, thankful that it still worked. Maybe because I just bought it brand new? I wanted to just stay where I was and not move from this spot, but I couldn't. I couldn't stay here through; I would have to keep moving until I had to crawl or I fell unconscious.

The latter was looking more and more likely.

I started to walk as briskly as I could manage with jumping at every bit of thunder and wildly looking around, to gain my bearings, when there was a flash of lightning. In words, I may as well have been doing a weird, limping trot. I think I was developing a phobia of thunder and lightning… At the next instant of light from the lightning, I briefly saw the forest.

It was only a few more miles away, which means another hour suffering in this weather. I started blubbering, dreading that I might never get out of the storm, and I think that was about when I fell down the ditch. Not the most pleasant experience ever, tumbling into a rather large…pothole-like thing. Maybe it was an old badger or fox den, either way it made me terribly muddy.

I shuddered again and laid there unmoving. I didn't want to budge from that spot, just the thought of it made my muscles complain… I still haven't stopped wheezing. I prayed that it wasn't another full-blown asthma attack; that was the last thing I needed at the moment. I couldn't grasp any more strength to haul my tired body off the ground…

* * *

_N__ó__rui the seventeenth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

I don't have the foggiest idea of how long I laid there or when it stopped raining. It could have been minutes, hours, or even days; the concept of time just seemed to escape my notice. Well, maybe I'm being a bit over-dramatic; I guess it might have been the rest of the night though. The sky was still overcast, but the worst of the weather had drifted away to the south, or at least I _think_ it was south.

I didn't care what direction it went, at least it went away. My body was numb, I couldn't really feel anything. I just kept quivering; whether it was because I was so cold, I was still scared, or because I was still crying I don't know. Maybe it was all three. Is it possible to die in the afterlife? I hoped not, because if this is the afterlife, I don't want to see what happens after the afterlife.

'Hey look, an ant…' I thought, watching it crawl on my arm. 'Bring your buddies, I'm hungry and one of you isn't going to satisfy my stomach.' It seemed to turn its head towards me and it…smiled?

I could have sworn a teeny, tiny, little voice said, "Not going to happen. You see, we are hungry too, but we don't want to be eaten by you. No, no, we are going to wait until you have no strength to move. When that happens, we'll come back to an all you can eat buffet." The nearby worm seemed to agree with him.

'Go away, Mr. Ant if you're not going to be any help.' The worm was laughing at me, I just knew it. 'And you, Mrs. Worm. Be quiet!' I thought fiercely at the both of them. They both guffawed at my expense. I couldn't muster enough energy to smack them away. My arms felt like lead. I glared and then exclaimed 'be fruitful and multiply' in my head, but not exactly in those words.

They both stared at me, the worm dug underground, slightly put out while the ant stayed and laughed at me some more. Its antenna waved hectically as it cackled. It crawled away, but I don't think it was following my mental biddings to go crawl in a hole and die. Great, I'm hallucinating.

I noticed a lot of the possible Cogon grass had been flattened slight by the storm and by my stumbling around. I mentally winced; I needed it for cover for when the sun finally decides to come out so I don't get sun burned. Huh, fun thing is; I'm might be dying from hypothermia and I worried about getting some lousy sunburn. How very ironic…

There was sound of rumbling in the distance. My heart plummeted. 'Please don't rain again. Not now, not now! Not when I just had to deal with it…' Only the rumbling got louder, the ground started shaking slightly and tinkling bells rang. I frowned, this wasn't thunder. I don't know what it is, but it's not thunder. The sound got louder and louder until it was the only thing I could hear.

It kind of sounded like drum going on at a fast staccato beat with sleigh bells being shook in time with the drum. The vibrations got worse the louder the sound got, until the thrumming sensation filled my whole body. Were these more hallucinations?

When I thought the rumbling couldn't get any worse, a voice sudden hollered out a word of warning, causing the rumbling to slow to a stop. There were sounds of a creaking rope being pulled back. I don't know what you would call that, but it sounded like a rope swing that someone swung onto hurdle into the river. Something stepped closer and then I heard, "A child?"

I could almost hear the frown in his voice. Something came nearer, kneeling down in front of me; it turned my head, and felt my pulse. I opened my eyes to see what was going on and almost had a heart attack. The prettiest person on the face of this planet, no, on the face of this _universe_ looked back at me. I knew it, I'm dead. If I'm seeing angels, I'm definitely dead. Emotions crossed his face too quickly for me to pick them out until it rested on one I could understand, confusion mixed with relief.

"You're coming with me." It wasn't a question. He had long, blond hair and silver eyes. He had a pale complexion, but it wasn't a sickly pale like mine could be. He was also very strong. I soon realized this as he smoothly picked me up as if I weighed nothing, even though I surely weighed around sixty pounds. He asked me something but I couldn't recall what it was.

He frowned again before facing forward. An angel, I had been besieged by an angel. The thought made me giddy. He stopped by a beautiful, snow colored horse with some bells tied around his neck; that explained the rumbling and tinkling noise.

He shifted me around until I was being held onto with one arm. He encouraged my arms to wrap around his neck and he mounted his horse. Once we were settled snugly on his horse we took off. I was facing backwards, my arms on wrapped around his waist, and my face buried in his chest. Jimmy cricket, he was so warm… My eyes drooped and I fell asleep.

* * *

I heard voices and felt people tugging me gently. I gripped the angel's robes tighter, unwilling to let go. The angel then spoke, his voice rumbling in his chest. Another voice answered and they talked a bit before they tried again. Somehow they succeeded in getting me to release my grip on him. My eyes flew open, panicked, as I gazed at him pleadingly. I grasped his sleeve, "No…" I managed to croak out, my throat hurting.

He studied me for moment almost sadly, before he turned to the person behind me, and said, "Give him to me." The person holding sighed and did just that.

"Take him closer to the fire and help me strip him down, so we can get him into some dryer clothes. He will catch his death of cold, otherwise." The angel took me over, closer to the flames before taking off my oversized tunic and long sleeved shirt. Both of them gasped when they saw my back, the golden haired angel quickly took off my strapless bra so they could have better access to my skinned back.

I heard the sound of someone rummaging around before the stranger said, "Put that on his back after you clean it up with this." I heard something slide across the wooden floor before a wet rag gently cleaned off my back.

When he got to a sore spot I had to bit my lip to keep from yelping. I waited for him to move onto a different area, but he stayed there. Suddenly, he stopped and prodded something on my back; I let out a whimper. "There's a piece of wood stuck in there," he muttered. Without warning; he nimbly pulled it out, making me yell out in pain. I whimpered softly and he apologized.

There was a sound of something being opened and he smeared something on my back. The relief was almost instant. Sighing, I relaxed my tense body as he kept spreading the cream on my back. He bandaged my back, ministered to my other cuts, and removed my hat. I heard him set it down saying, "Can you stand up so we can take off the rest of your clothes?" I bit my lip and nodded, taking off my boots after getting to my feet. His hand, which held onto me to make sure I wouldn't fall, suddenly tightened. I turned towards him to see his shocked face staring at me.

"Impossible." He choked out, causing another angel to appear behind him, just as stunning as mine. They looked at each other in shock. What was wrong? Why were they looking at me like that? I worriedly looked between the two of them, crossing my arms across my chest. My angel reached out and cautiously felt my ears, I shivered at the sensation. Bewildered; he breathed out the words, "An Elfling?"

"Looks like it." The angel next to him uttered disbelieving. "I will…I will go tell the others." The other angel snuck another glance at me, before striding out the door.

"An elf-child…" My angel muttered to himself. "Well, this changes things."

* * *

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

**Translations:** Nórui is the sixth month of the year (June) in Sindarin and is a name used by the Dúnedain. The reason I have used June is because it is one of the wetter months in Europe, second only to July. It is more likely that a big storm would happen around that time than say... Narbeleth (October). Find more information at Realelvish and at the Arda Encyclopedia.

**Explanations: **

*The drowning vision, as cheesy as it sounds, is based almost exactly from a real-life near-drowning survivor's account on what happened to her.  www. experienceproject stories/Had-A-Near-Death-Experience/ 1384412 (Just remember to take out the spaces.) Just assume that the light and whispering voices are the valar or something. It will most likely be explained better in the story later on. Maybe.

*As for the name "Honor Rae," I know someone named that. The character's personality is mostly based of the real life version. (Although the real life Honor Rae prefers to be called "Rae.")

*The term "Country Bumpkin Minnesotan" is in no way meant to offensive. _I_ often refer to myself as such. For I was born and raised in the Rural areas of Minnesota. (Until recently, where I have been dragged off by my "Mall Rat" parents. I still visit my grandparents who still live in the far outskirts of Washington county.) I am used to the terms: country hick, bumpkin, and hillbilly among other things.

The only thing that is correct about those fore-mentioned statements is that I have a tendency to speak "five times" slower than a normal human being and use old fashion adages and sayings. The most accurate description I have ever been called is a grandma. (Curtesy of my own mother. I love my mother, I really do.)

*As for Honor Rae's regression, she has become an elfling. _**Any human who ever becomes an elf will have regressed.** __**There are no** **exceptions.** _The reason is the aging process that elves go through around their first century, both mentally and physically. When they are first born and up to their fifties, elves will grow at the rate of one year (when compared to a human) for every two point five years. So when they are twenty-five, they will appear to be ten years old. They will stop physically aging when they are fifty and will appear to be in their twenties and late teens.

Their mind will continue to age at the rate of one year for every two point five years. When they have reached the one century mark they will be considered adults in the elvish society, because by then they would have the mental maturity (theoretically speaking) of a forty-year old. I also have a theory that for every thousand years or so they may age one year or so, but that may vary with their stress levels and such. _**Remember: There is always room for growth if not physical then mental!**_

**Advertisement: **

**TITLE: **Roel

**AUTHOR: **Mayumi Mizuki

**ID: **8470649

**SUMMARY:** A companion collection to Ring of Endless Light, a collaboration posted by my co-author neoko-chan, side stories and such. Requests taken.

**OPINION: **Rather nice. It's a refreshing thing to read in between our chapters to see what is happening back at Honor Rae and Laura's home as well as some flash-backs and one-shots. Beautifully done and simple.

_Date Submitted:_ _Wensday, August 29, 2012_


	2. Periwinkle

**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.**

_**Disclaimer:**__** All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

* * *

_N__ó__rui the fifteenth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

'This man is taking "unusual" to the next level.' Laura thought as she followed the jovial old fellow who had introduced himself as Tom Bombadil, by a somewhat confusing ditty:

"A little one sleeping ashore  
was found by Tom Bombadil one morn.  
Who was a looking for lilies from the water,  
a gift to dear Goldberry, the River-woman's daughter."

They were currently returning from a jaunt in a little glen, looking for yet more gifts for Goldberry, who was Tom's wife. Speaking of the man, Laura glanced at said person, who was currently singing a cheerful tune. He had found her hidden amongst the reeds where he was getting some water lilies for his wife, "Goldberry."

Laura found it bizarre that there was a person called Goldberry but perhaps that was how things were here; it was not that different than Chinese or Japanese names after all. Another oddity was that when she was around Tom; she felt an odd sense of calm about her, even when he had helped her realize some frightening facts. One of which was that she had died and another one being that she was an elven child. She was no longer human. Of course, even with his strange calming effect she had still freaked out.

"What once was, now will disappear.  
'There' is not 'here.'  
A past life's hold is being displaced,  
and new life will then replace."

Those words, at first, had not made a smidge of sense. Once she understood and realized what he meant; she felt lost. There was no more school, no aunt or uncle, and no family. Her planned future was dust, her friends far away, her city of trees gone, and her secret places in those woods no longer existed. Her family, they would all believe she was dead...

And what about Honor, was she alive back home? Was she dead forever or had she come to this afterlife as well? And she was an elf? If Honor Rae was, by some very slim chance, here as well; Laura would be unrecognizable. Centuries without any trace of home and no truly familiar faces. Centuries wondering about Honor Rae. Would her new 'people' even accept her? Oh...

Despite all her panicked worry; Laura knew she could have had a far worse reaction to these revelations. Most of those reactions had been quickly snuffed out and pushed aside by his calming and seemly all-knowing atmosphere. When she asked him questions, he merely waved them off and said, "Not now. When we are resting by the dancing fire, that is when there is a time for stories to be told and questions to be answered."

She was carrying a big bundle of water lilies, as she trailed behind the strange man; who was holding just as much, if not more, of the flowers. They were walking down the small trail when Tom suddenly sang out:

"Hey dol! Merry-dol! Ring a dong dillo!  
Ring a dong! Hop along! Fal lal the willow!  
Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!  
Hey! Come merry-dol! Derry-dol! My darling!  
Light goes the weather-wind and the feathered starling.

Down along under Hill, shining in the sunlight,  
Waiting on the doorstep for the cold starlight,  
There my pretty lady is, River-woman's daughter,  
Slender as the willow-wand, clearer than water.

Old Tom Bombadil water-lilies and child bringing  
Comes hopping home again. Can you hear him singing?  
Hey! Come merry-dol! Derry-dol! And merry-o,  
Goldberry, Goldberry, merry yellow berry-o!

Poor old Willow-man, you tuck your roots away!  
Tom's in a hurry now. Evening will follow day.  
Tom's going home again water-lilies and child bringing.  
Hey! Come merry-dol! Can you hear me singing?"

Then it came into view, the house that belonged to Tom Bombadil. It was similar to a cottage, small and comfortable looking. It was in a small clearing where a fat, old horse could be seen grazing. Patches of wild flowers were randomly spotted around the meadow; with butterflies, bumblebees, and hummingbirds buzzing and fluttering about.

"Hop along my little friend, up the Withywindle!  
Tom's going on ahead for candles to kindle.  
Down west sinks the Sun: soon you will be groping.  
When the night-shadows fall, then the door will open.

Out of the window-panes light will twinkle yellow.  
Fear no alder black! Heed no hoary willow!  
Fear neither root nor bough! Tom goes on before you!  
Hey now! Merry dol! We'll be waiting for you!"

And with that cheerful note, Tom strode ahead leaving a stunned Laura in his wake. He was basically giving her permission to linger in the field for a little bit, to explore, but also warning her not to take too long.

* * *

_N__ó__rui the seventeenth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

It was like being in a fairy tale; the days seemed to pass in a dream like sequence. One day being much like the other with their key differences that stopped me from feeling like I was walking in a rut. Each day started much in the same way as the one before it. Tom would wake up and whistle out a tune singing, "Come, derry-dol, merry-dol, my darling!" Tom would then come and gently wake me up if I was not already awake. I would get dressed in some small, little dresses Goldberry had provided me with. Now, just so you know, I was by no means prissy. However, I had a small place in my heart for dresses, skirts, and such. Particularly, old-fashioned ones that had long sleeves and longer hems. I have been called a prude or many other similar things because of this.

I used to wear all kinds of those garments when I could. Whenever I did, I would usually get strange looks because of it. That was one of the reasons why I did not wear them as often as I desired. For making faces back or ignoring them does not always work; I still got my 'feathers ruffled' with their expressions and comments. At least I had my friends; they usually liked those clothes and wore similar ones sometimes. Here, where ever I am now, it is acceptable to wear the clothes like and even fashionable! I had asked Goldberry where she had gotten the delightful garments and she had given me a small smile before shaking her head at me. It was times like that where Honor Rae probably would have said, 'don't look a gift horse in the mouth.'

Tom seemed to agree, when I had protested about him getting rid of my Zelda costume, it was the only thing besides my necklace that I had left in this place. He had shaken his head before softly scolding me with, "Clothes are but little loss, if you escape from drowning." Tom pretty much wore the same thing every day. He wore a blue jacket over a green girdle. He also wore leather breeches which were a type of pants. To finish off the assemble; he had yellow boots and a feathered hat. The feather changed whenever he felt like it; currently, it was a blue jay feather. He reminded me of those weird European styles that you will find in a magazine that no sensible person would wear! At least Tom's clothe actually had a function other than to simply be 'eye-catching.'

Breakfast was the same thing in the morning; delicious porridge with some fruit, milk, and bread smothered in jam. Afterwards, we would do some chores like milking the cow, keeping the trees in line, or other various things. Chores were fun to do with Tom and Goldberry, they would have little tunes to do the work along to or they would talk to the animals/plant life. I think it was safe to say that there was never a dull moment. When all the chores were done, Tom and I would go exploring in the woods. On our adventures, he would explain things to me; the gossip among the critters that lived in the woods with us, the people outside the woods that he cared to find out about, or questions I would have.

The issue of lunch would be a small one. We go back to the cottage and eat sweet fruits and cheeses outside in the late afternoon. That was when my lessons began. I learned how to ride a horse and speak in simple common tongue.

"Ranugad."

"Rangad."

"The 'u' forgotten, is misbegotten."

" Ranuugad."

"Ran-u-gad."

" Ran-u-gad."

"Ranugad."

"Ranugad."

"To reach success,  
there may be a mess.  
But take a bun  
for a job well done."

"Yes!"

I had an easier time learn how to talk in common tongue than riding a horse. I can ride a horse perfectly fine if it has a saddle; but Tom was trying to teach me how to ride without one, because that was how elves rode their horses. Periwinkle was the most patient horse I have ever come across, but it does not matter how patient he is if he cannot tell whether I want to going left or right! I might as well have gone on him backwards, for all he knew.

Dinner was fabulous, amazing, wonderful, and...any way; we'd have a hearty meal that was from mostly vegetarian origins. I vaguely missed meat, like a ham or a roast. We would finish it off with dessert and sweetened tea. I terribly missed regular sweets like chocolate or ice cream. Afterwards, when we sat by the fire, we had conversations the helped me feel a little better with what I lost. I would tell him what I used to do before the accident by the river. I told him about Honor Rae, Stillwater, Minnesota, family, school, and my memories. Any questions I had, he lead me to an answer that I found out all by myself. Like I now knew that I had in fact died, Honor Rae was mostly likely here as well with the same change of race and age, and I could not stay here forever. Soon, when Tom felt I was ready, I would have to leave with him to find my own 'people'.

However, he said that would not be in the near future, I was not even close to resembling ready. We both knew that between Honor Rae and I, I was the leader. Even though I was younger than her, I was the one with the nature and instincts of an older sibling. We evened each other out; I was logical, cynical, and the arts expert. Whether it was literature, language, knowledge, or problem-solving; I was the one to go to and could be socially inept because of it. Honor Rae was intuitive, buoyant, and the biotic expert. If it is alive, she knows how to interact with it; whether it is people, animals, or plants. In order to do that, however, she naively leaves herself exposed, trusting that they won't hurt her in the process. If I am the brain, she is the heart. In order to keep the balance; I need to learn all I can so, I can help her, and myself, later.

* * *

_N__ó__rui the eighteenth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

Today, Tom was the subject of conversation. I asked him what exactly he had been doing when he had found me. He answered with a song:

"I had an errand there: gathering water-lilies,  
green leaves and lilies white to please my pretty lady,  
the last ere the year's end to keep them from the winter,  
to flower by her pretty feet till the snows are melted.

Each year at summer's end I go to find them for her,  
in a wide pool, deep and clear, far down Withywindle;  
there they opened first in the spring and there they linger latest.  
By that pool long ago I found the River-daughter,  
fair young Goldberry sitting in the rushes.  
Sweet was her singing then, and her heart was beating!

And that proved well for you – for now I shall no longer  
go down deep again along the forest-water,  
not while the year is old. Nor shall I be passing  
Old Man Willow's house this side of spring-time,  
not till the merry spring, when the River-daughter dances  
down the withy-path to bathe in the water."

I had thought that it was rather sweet of him to do something like that for his wife. That brought another thought, how had he met his wife? Tom's eyes glazed over and he had a far-away, happy look on his face. After a few minutes of reminiscing, he told an epic about himself.

"Old Tom Bombadil was a merry fellow;  
bright blue his jacket was and his boots were yellow,  
green were his girdle and his breeches all of leather;  
he wore in his tall hat a swan-wing feather.  
He lived up under Hill, where the Withywindle  
ran from a grassy well down into the dingle.

Old Tom in summertime walked about the meadows  
gathering the buttercups, running after shadows,  
tickling the bumblebees that buzzed among the flowers,  
sitting by the waterside for hours upon hours.

There his beard dangled long down into the water:  
up came Goldberry, the River-woman's daughter;  
pulled Tom's hanging hair. In he went a-wallowing  
under the water-lilies, bubbling and a-swallowing.

'Hey, Tom Bombadil! Whither are you going?'  
Said fair Goldberry. 'Bubbles you are blowing,  
frightening the finny fish and the brown water-rat,  
startling the dabchicks, and drowning your feather-hat!'

'You bring it back again, there's a pretty maiden!'  
Said Tom Bombadil. 'I do not care for wading.  
Go down! Sleep again where the pools are shady  
far below willow-roots, little water-lady!'

Back to her mother's house in the deepest hollow  
swam young Goldberry. But Tom, he would not follow;  
on knotted willow-roots he sat in sunny weather,  
drying his yellow boots and his draggled feather.

Wise old Bombadil, he was a wary fellow;  
bright blue his jacket was, and his boots were yellow.  
None ever caught old Tom in upland or in dingle,  
walking the forest-paths, or by the Withywindle,  
or out on the lily-pools in boat upon the water.  
But one day Tom, he went and caught the River-daughter,  
in green gown, flowing hair, sitting in the rushes,  
singing old water-songs to birds upon the bushes.

He caught her, held her fast! Water-rats went scuttering  
reeds hissed, herons cried, and her heart was fluttering.  
Said Tom Bombadil: 'Here's my pretty maiden!  
You shall come home with me! The table is all laden:  
yellow cream, honeycomb, white bread and butter;  
roses at the window-sill and peeping round the shutter.  
You shall come under Hill! Never mind your mother  
in her deep weedy pool: there you'll find no lover!'

Old Tom Bombadil had a merry wedding,  
crowned all with buttercups, hat and feather shedding;  
his bride with forget-me-nots and flag-lilies for garland  
was robed all in silver-green. He sang like a starling,  
hummed like a honey-bee, lilted to the fiddle,  
clasping his river-maid round her slender middle.

He woke in morning-light, whistled like a starling,  
sang, 'Come, derry-dol, merry-dol, my darling!'  
He clapped on his battered hat, boots, and coat and feather;  
opened the window wide to the sunny weather.  
Then he sat on the door-step chopping sticks of willow,  
while fair Goldberry combed her tresses yellow."

'Well, that was romantic…I guess.' I thought to myself. Tom then declared it was time for me to rest and shooed me off to my bedroom. I got in bed and began wondering what exactly was going on with my sister and how she was feeling at the moment. I hope she didn't do anything stupid, or that no one hurt her either...

That thought was and would never be pleasant, but at this point I had absolutely no idea where she was, if she was safe, or otherwise. It terrified me, that there was nothing I could immediately do. Until Tom decided I was ready. I knew better than to leave half-cocked, I wouldn't be any help at all. I could only hope none of the nasties I had learned about had or would get her...

As much as the learning was slightly fun, waiting and hoping royally sucked.

* * *

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

**Translations: **Ranugad name. Stay at home ~ perhaps with male declension u- ~ (*RAN, *GAD)

**Epic**

**1.** Noting or pertaining to a long poetic composition, usually centered upon a hero, in which a series of great achievements or events is narrated in elevated style: Homer's Iliad is an epic poem.

**2. **Resembling or suggesting such poetry: an epic novel on the founding of the country.

_Please notice that neither of the two definitions above have to do with the grammatically incorrect modern slang._

**Explanations: **

*Yes, there was actual, liable singing. I figured if Mr. Tom does it in the books, he can do it here. I am disappointed how in most Fan Fictions how people will race through the eighteen years it takes for Frodo and company to reach Imladris (Rivendell) after they get the ring from Bilbo. They will simply take the movie route or will gloss over the whole journey. I'll admit that Tom is a hard person (nut) to crack, but it can be done through patience and whole lot of research. (Tom is my favorite minor character in this story, so that made it a little easier.)

*The longer songs are taken from either the first book in the _Lord of the Rings_ Trilogy and _The Adventures of Tom_ Bombadil. (Believe it or not, but the last one doesn't have much to do with Tom.)

*The shorter ones were created by my co-author and edited(so they rhyme) by myself.

*'Old Tom Bombadil water-lilies and child bringing' used to be 'Old Tom Bombadil water-lilies bringing.' This was taken from the first book in the famous trilogy. Edited to fit the story.

*The reasure why Laura is so calm is because I noticed that Tom had the same effect on the four hobbits in the book. It appeared to last only so long as they were in "Tom's Country" where his influence has a strong grip. Either that or if they were in direct contact with him as was seen with the Barrow-wight incident.

*"Clothes are but little loss, if you escape from drowning." Qoute, anyone? Tom said this in one of Tolkien's books somewhere; it was so apt, I _had_ to use it.

*Periwinkle was a name for a horse. Old Fatty Lumpkin hasn't been born for another thousand or so years yet. This seems like a name Tom would call his horse.

*Meals were mostly vegetarian for the sake that elves gernerally didn't eat much meat unless they were traveling. That and I noticed that both Tom and Beorn the Skin-changer served mostly vegetarian foods.

*The nasties that Laura is refering to are the flesh-eating monsters that would just _love_ to get a hold of a fair, young, elf-child. They would do some of the same things (if not worse!) to elflings that will cause Celebrían to cross over to Valinor. (No, I am saving her. Sorry!)

**Advertisements:** Please check them out.

**TITLE: **The Hole in the Bottom of the Sea

**AUTHOR: **Palsgraf

**ID: 5941386**

**SUMMARY: **After a mechanical failure brings down her helicopter Harper finds herself sucked into Middle Earth. She struggles to maintain her sanity, and survive in an unknown world.

**OPINION: **I rather liked it. The story was, by far, better than most army-person/people "falling" into middle-earth. I can attest to that much. It's such a shame that is hasn't been continued for years now.

**Thoughts: **School is starting and my ACT, PSAT, and SAT tests are coming up. Oh joy.

_Date Submitted: Tuesday, September 4th, 2012_


	3. Rolling, rolling, rolling

**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.**

_**Disclaimer:**__** All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

* * *

_N__ó__rui the seventeenth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

"What do you propose that we do? We _cannot_ leave him here."

"Cael, don't you dare mention something like that! Doing that to an elfling, or to any child, is unspeakable."

"I did not suggest it! I merely said what we _cannot _do." Cael protested.

"Cael, no one said you have." A pause for a meaningful glare and the sound of someone huffing; then he continued. "We should probably send our best rider to Imladris with him and on our fastest horse…" There were sounds of agreement.

"No." Glorfindel said, tightening his grip on me. "Have you forgotten why we are here in the first place? It would be foolish to send someone alone to Imladris with all those companies of orcs prowling about."

"What if we divided among ourselves evenly and _then_ went to-"

"Then there wouldn't be enough for the hunt." I could almost hear Glorfindel's eyes narrow.

The elf next to us spoke up, "Glorfindel is right, we would be outnumbered. What if we left him in the care of the humans in the nearby town…?" Many elves protested loudly at his suggestion.

"There is no telling what they could do to him."

"What they _would_ do."

"Even if they were respectable humans, they wouldn't be able to properly protect him against any orc raids or attacks."

"It is better that he stays with the company of elves."

"If the wrong sort of humans found out that he was from elven origins…" There was a collective shudder amongst the group. I whimpered at the thought of leaving Glorfindel; he was the only one I trusted and _knew_ in this weird place where monsters roamed and elves existed.

He rubbed my back soothingly before saying, "Hulian is right, it is better to have him stay in the company of elves. He will have to travel with us on our hunt, until we get close enough to Imladris, and where one of us can get him there without any hassle."

The elf next to us waved away any protests, saying, "If anyone has a better idea, speak up now. No? Then it is decided. We will continue the hunt tomorrow. Ruean, you have the first watch." People got up and moved around. The majority of them went to bed, including Glorfindel and I.

In case you didn't guess, Glorfindel was the "angel" that found me. He turned out to be an elf. As soon as the other elf had left to inform the other elves in the hunting party that Glorfindel was in, he introduced himself to me. He asked my name, but I couldn't bring myself to tell him. He had frowned, but didn't ask anymore on the matter.

He had me change into some clean clothes and let me keep on my women's boxers that were under my breeches. I was too embarrassed to strip down completely. He put a spare shirt on me so that I was clothed. He took care of my legs and then he picked me up. He carried me over to a bigger fire. I had been given food and ate as fast I could without being gross or looking like a half-starved animal. I was thankful that everyone was polite enough not to stare directly at me while I ate or I would have been too nervous to eat as cleanly as I managed.

A quick glance around told me that there were several fires around the campsite, but this seemed to be the main one. There were many elves around the campfire and all were looking at me interested out of the corner of their eyes. I looked back down unable to take their glances. As soon as I had finished eating and had sat back in Glorfindel's lap, they had a meeting.

They discussed were I came from, what happened to me, who I was, and what they were going to do with me. They had tried to ask me questions, but I didn't answer any, too intimidated by them. Glorfindel shared a blanket with me after the meeting. I listened to his heartbeat and breathing at he slept. At least, I think he was asleep. I didn't want to move and risk waking him up to find out. I felt awkward and at the same time, strangely at peace.

I swear I had an inner child trying to take over my actions. This caused me to feel confused and unsure how I should act. What if I said the wrong thing and was left behind? What if they found out that they made a mistake and that I was originally a _human_? What would happen to me after I had reached this Imladris place? I was walking on egg-shells and it had robbed me of my voice.

* * *

_N__ó__rui the eighteenth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

In the morning, I was given some sweet fruit for breakfast and tiredly ate with Glorfindel. The elves around us switched between packing up for the journey and ogling at me. At the moment, I was too tired to care. I hadn't been able to fall asleep until late last night, uneasy about what would happen to me. I had come to the conclusion to not cause any trouble and to stay out of the way. Not that I would've tried to cause trouble in the first place. Maybe if I was unobtrusive, they won't toss me in a river the first chance they get. I shuddered at the disturbing thought. 'Think positive. Think Positive.' I mentally chided myself.

Glorfindel had seen me tremble and had sent me another sort of sad look. He had finished eating first and seemed to be thinking about something. "Small one," Glorfindel said addressing me, "I will also have to pack away supplies onto Hissael for our…journey. It will only take me a moment, can you wait for me?" He studied my face while my tired mind processed what he said.

Glorfindel did say _our_ journey, so that meant I was included. Especially since he asked if I could wait for him, so that means they weren't going to suddenly leave me behind. Besides, didn't I say that I was going to be as unobtrusive as possible? Saying no counts as being obtrusive… I nodded and took another bite of my fruit. He gave me a small smile before heading over to our bed roll and putting it away. Turning away from him, I watched the other elves and their activities. I spotted an elf from last night's meeting, the one called Cael.

He was tall, much like the other elves, but he seemed especially tall. Glorfindel was one of the few that could rival Cael's height. His hair reached slightly past his shoulders; it had a flaxen tinge to it, giving it a straw-like appearance. His skin had a healthy grow to it; it was almost a tan, but not quite. In fact none of the elves I had seen thus far had any hint of a tan or even any sunburn.

They all had a fair complexion to them.

Cael was slender; but not lanky, nor did he give the impression of being a gangly teenager. He had the look of a model. He was muscular and looked very fit. He also seemed pretty friendly, someone I would like to have as an older brother. I have never had any one to fit the older sibling description or someone who was an older sibling. I was always the eldest; whether in my group of friends or my family, I was always older. His eyes were green like the forest around us.

Next to him was another elf from the meeting, but I never caught his name though. His hair was bottle blond, only it was a natural color on him. His skin was a nice peachy color and his cheeks were rosy. He seems to be the type of person to be almost always in a good mood. He was a head shorter than Cael, but looked to be strongly built.

His hair was longer than anyone else in the group of elves; it was even longer than Glorfindel's, which was near his mid-back. His eyes were slightly narrow, like he had a devious plan to play on someone. He gave the impression of a childish trickster or until I saw the quiver of arrows that is. Now his narrowed eyes told me that he was a master archer that shot great distances and that nothing got past him when he was on duty. He had gentle, sky blue eyes.

Further away from the duo was another elf. His name was Ruean and he had the first watch last night after the meeting. He was the only elf I saw with white, almost silver, hair; all the rest had varying degrees of blond or brown hair. He seemed calm, quiet, and almost introverted, although he got along quite well with the rest of the elves.

He was about an average height for most elves and hair that reached around his shoulders. It was pulled back into a pony-tail and out of his face. He was pale faced compared to the rest and I started to wonder if he was an albino. He wore a dark tunic to even out his bleach colored hair. When I saw his eyes, I was a hundred percent sure that he was albino; they were a pink-ish red hue.

Next to him were two elves, one of them I knew was called Hulian. He had strong, proud features; high cheek bones, a royal nose, and the like. He was one of the taller elves and he seemed to carry himself with a sense of purpose. His eyes like the bottle blonde elf were narrowed; only instead of a prankster master archer, he was like a school yard teacher that made sure to catch troublemakers. His long, dirty blonde hair was in a neat and orderly braid. He had broad shoulders and a medium build from what I could see. His eyes were a stormy grey.

The other one whom Hulian was talking to, I recognized as the second elf I had mistaken for an angel. I didn't catch his name either. He was easily the tallest elf in the group and well built too. In elven terms he was probably considered burly, because none of the other elves were as big as him. He surpassed seven feet tall easily and was probably seven feet eight inches or something.

His hair reached his shoulders, but it was pulled back into a short pony-tail. His hair was a light brown that bordered a soft caramel color. When he made a gesture with his hands while explaining something in response to Hulian, I saw that they were calloused. His eyes were a dark, navy blue.

There were many others, easily twenty, but I couldn't explain them all. Most were blonde, around six and a half feet tall, hair that reached their shoulder blades, and had some shade of blue eyes. Most wore green tunics with varying shades of brown breeches. Many of the horses were the same way too. The horses they had were all solid colors that sometimes had white stockings or stars on their noses.

There were no black horses; just browns, whites, reds, and grays. I painfully thought of my Grandma's fat, old, black horse called Herbie. He was the only horse I ever rode by myself. I only rode him a few times when I was around seven years old, but that didn't last very long because of my allergies. Which made me wonder why I didn't start reacting yet, because I was completely surrounded by horses; not that I was complaining or anything.

By now I had finished my fruit and was picking at the nail polish that had most faded from my fingers. There were only small speckles of it here and there on my nails; most of it was on my toes and a large amount of it was gone there too. Nail polish typically had a life span of less than a week on my finger nails because I was almost always doing something busy with my hands or I was picking at the polish.

It was a habit that my mama always _hated_, it was a nervous tic that I was never able to get rid of. The nail polish I had on now was black with silver glitter in it; it was my favorite because it reminded me of a really starry sky or the Milky Way Galaxy. A shadow loomed over me and I looked up to see Glorfindel.

"Small one," He said after a pause which consisted of studying the paint on my nails, "it is time for us to leave." I nodded and he reached down to pick me up. I got on my feet and was hoisted into his arms. I was too out of it to notice this before, but it was really high off the ground from my perch. If I fell from this height, I'd probably get brain damage. Glorfindel set me on Hissael and told me to hold on when Hulian and the person next to him called Glorfindel over to them. I didn't catch most of what they were discussing, but it got the gist of it.

Glorfindel was the leader of this group, or hunt or whatever it was called, and was usually the one who lead it. However, since I've joined their merry little bandwagon, I've shied away from everyone else except from Glorfindel, and because of this I am riding with him. They, meaning Hulian and the burly elf, were worried that there was a higher risk of something happening to me if I was in the front of the hunting party.

They were suggesting that Glorfindel, and consequentially myself, should ride in the middle where it was the safest. Glorfindel agreed to this plan with little to no complaint. Another question was posed to Glorfindel: who would then be leading the band, if not Glorfindel? Glorfindel apparently chose the burly elf, because Hulian walked back with Glorfindel and mounted his horse beside Hissael.

The last traces of the fires and the elves' presence were erased and everyone mounted on their horses. The burly elf took off first and the rest of the company followed. Where they were going and how they knew they were going in the right direction was beyond me. If I was the one leading, we'd get lost so many times it would a whole new meaning to the definition of 'lost.' It's a good thing I'm not in charge.

* * *

We have been riding for hours now and I have no clue of what we're looking for. If I knew, I would help look for it; that would certainly make the time run a bit faster. Mentally singing the song, 'One hundred bottles of pop on the wall' isn't very stimulating. The only other form of entertainment is listening to the elves gossip. They were worse than little old ladies believe it or not.

They talked about how fair an elf named "Arwen" looked, how an elf named Lindar was working on a new ballad, if an elf called "Lord Elrond" could actually read minds, and so on. Eventually talk shifted to how I came about and that no one has got a word out of me yet.

I didn't know if I should be flattered or horrified that I was interesting enough to be gossiped about. Glorfindel simply settled on being annoyed at them and after awhile snapped at them. They got sheepish and embarrassed looks that plainly said that they didn't realize that they were being over heard. Another way I passed the time was doing braids in Hissael's mane. I finished about ten of them before we stopped for a break.

When Glorfindel set me on my feet, I immediately sat down, and stretched my legs. It felt wonderful after hours of sitting on a horse so long that your legs fall asleep and then wake up twice. Flopping on my back, I laid down on the grass and smelled the sweet air around me. If you only lived in the city all your life, you could never have tried air like this.

My grandma, Laura, and I live in the country, so we smelled air like this every day. I never got tired of it and the smell of it now reminded me of home. Closing my eyes, I was filled with a sense of nostalgia as I listened to the sounds around me. People talking and laughing as they moved around, horses whinnying and neighed as they grazed, and birds as they let out their calls; all of it was familiar and comforting to me.

Feeling like a little girl again, I forgot when and where I was exactly. Reaching my arms above my head, I rolled around on the ground and down the dip in the forest floor. My descent only lasted a few seconds and I ended up on my belly with my face buried in the grass, but it was worth it. I let out a laugh remembering when my little brother Kenzo did the same thing and rolled into a pine tree down the big hill in our backyard. I missed my family so much.

I thought of my mama, Grandma, Grandpa, Kai, Kenzo, and then…Laura… The laughter died on my lips and I was filled with a sense of misery.

* * *

Glorfindel was disappointed with the audacity of the other hunters in the patrol. They were gossiping in the presence of the subject of their gossip; worse yet, the elfling was listening to them as they spun more and more ludicrous sounding tales about him. Finally, he (Glorfindel) had lost it and told them to stop fooling around. They had the sense to look embarrassed about being caught and looked anywhere but Glorfindel and his charge. The child seemed to study them for a brief moment longer before turning his attention to Hissael's mane.

He fingered it for a minute or two before he started to do some small braids on it out of boredom. Glorfindel was slightly amused, because he knew that had it been anyone else and had they not been riding; the horse would have been indignant and nippy. Ten braids had been incorporated into Hissael's mane; but before Glorfindel could make a comment on how beautiful the elfling was making him, Elorne signaled for everyone to take a break.

The break was more for the child's benefit than for anyone else, for the hunters had ridden horses for longer than four hours without a break.

Now would be the ideal time for the child to have a quick snack and a bathroom break. Glorfindel dismounted the horse before lifting the child down and off Hissael. To his surprise, when he set the child down and let go; the elfling immediately sat on his rump and started stretching out his little legs. The elfling spread out his legs, reached forward with his hands, and folded down to the ground, extending before sitting back up.

He relaxed for a bit and flopped down on the forest floor. Hissael also watched the whole thing before snorting, shaking out the braids in his mane, and wandering over to the other horses. The elfling closed his eyes and breathed deeply several times seeming to savor the scent of the forest.

Glorfindel took a seat next to the elf-child and studied the small form next to him. He was shocked when he first found the child, looking everything but alive in that clearing. He was ashamed to have drawn a bow against the poor elfling, mistaking it for something dangerous before getting a good look at him.

He assumed the child was dead, before checking the pulse, and having his dark blue eyes look so intently at him. Glorfindel had immediately taken the child back to camp and had made a second mistake; this time thinking that the child was of human kind.

He had taken the child to Elorne who was the most experienced at healing out of the whole company. When Elorne tried to take the child away from Glorfindel so it could be healed, however, it protested. The child had uttered a strangled sound and then _opened those_ _eyes_. Those eyes that begged him not to leave them with some other stranger. Even though Glorfindel himself was still technically a stranger too; the child didn't want to be parted from him.

Glorfindel complied and told Elorne that he would tend to the child himself. Glorfindel wasn't expecting to see the state of the child's back. Much of it had been skinned severely; there had been splinters, a chunk of wood embedded in it, and a strange black band of cloth that was loosely wrapped around its chest. The cloth had to be cut off and a rapid healing cream was applied.

He had not noticed the ears at first, when he had taken off the hat, and supported the child while the extra large boots were slipped off. He had only noticed them after seeing a flash of silver and noting that the child's ears were pierced, having silver hoops on them. Only then did he fully look at the ear and realize just what, or in this case _who_, he had found.

His exclamation of surprise had brought about Elorne's reason to approach Glorfindel and the child, causing him to be given a shock too. After Elorne had left to inform the rest of the patrol, Glorfindel introduced himself to the elfling hoping to get a name. Not a peep was uttered from the mouth of the child, and even during the meeting when the child was asked questions; the child never spoke except to occasionally whimper.

Glorfindel was troubled, elflings were cherished amongst the elven community; births were always immediately reported and celebrated. So why hadn't there been any news about the elf-child that had easily been around for over a decade and a half? Even more alarming, where were his parents? Why had the child been found in a nearly starved and injured state?

Most importantly, _why won't the child speak or even smile_? It was not natural. No elfling should be so skittish of their own kind; no elf in their right mind would _ever_ be any intentional cause of harm to them, even if they weren't in their right mind the elfling wouldn't be anywhere near them. So why was he like this?

There was movement from the object of his musings, the elfling had raised his arms above his head and rolled away from Glorfindel. Then the child rolled away again… and again… and again. He had kept on rolling, when he reached a small slope…which he rolled quickly down. Glorfindel watched worried at first when the child hadn't made any sound from where he was, face down on the ground.

That was when he heard it, a giggle.

The sound made his heart leap and a smile come on to his face. Maybe the child was just shy and he had worried for nothing? Sadly, the elf-child's laughter didn't last, ending as quickly as it came. A sigh came from the nearby elves disappointed that the child's merriment stopped so suddenly and ended so abruptly.

The child rolled over again and sat up. His hair was mussed up, sticking out at random intervals, and had pieces of grass stuck in it. He had reached up and was fixing his hair when he started sneezing. Rydre, one of the young elf-lords in the patrol, had ambled to the elfling. He laughed and started helping the small child saying, "With all the sneezing you are doing; someone must really like you and is talking about you right now." The child stared at Rydre surprised and blinked a few times.

"Oh, where are my manners? My name is Rydre, small one." Rydre had finished picking out all the grass and had taken a seat beside the child. "I am one of the many archers in this hunting party. Have you ever tried shooting an arrow before? When I first learned how, everyone had to duck and take shelter from my waylaid arrows. No one was safe from them, not even myself in some occasions." This gained a small snort of laughter from the elfling.

Encouraged, Rydre continued with his small and humorous anecdotes, getting a giggle here and there for his efforts while the child ate a piece of fruit that Rydre offered him during one of his stories.

Elorne approached Glorfindel with a small bag. "Now that the child is occupied and you are free at the moment, I need to talk to you."

"What would you wish to discuss with me at the moment, Elorne?"

"The strange belongings of our charge," Elorne tossed the bag onto Glorfindel's lap. "And what will happen when we reach Imladris."

* * *

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

**Translations:** Although I think the translation in itself is pretty obvious; the place Imladris is also known as Rivendell.

**Explanations:**

*The Hunt is the fictional hunting party that goes around killing orcs. As far as I know there is nothing in canon that mentions it, but it sounds like something that elves and men might do on occasion. A hunt could typically last anywhere from one month to several months. The planned hunt that Glorfindel was leading was supposed to last for another few weeks or so; but since they now have an elfling in their possession, they're going to try to go through their rounds as quickly as possible.**  
**

*Honor Rae thought Glorfindel was an angel, because she assumes she is dead. She probably now assumes she is in wonderland.

*Eating with a whole bunch of people staring intently at you is a hard thing to do; especially if you are as shy as Honor Rae.

*The inner child is the natural instincts of a young elfling trying to break through. Fanfictions that star an Elfling!Harry Potter tend to have those "urges." Fans of these stories know what I am talking about.

*Nail polish, as far as I know, has not been invented yet. So naturally Glorfindel would be curious enough to pause in his speech to study it on he nails. (Especially if she draws attention to the paint by picking at it.) Since there is no nail polish, Honor Rae will make do with regular paint when she can find it.

*The stretch Honor Rae was doing, was a yoga straddle stretch pose while bending forward to the ground. It's almost like a head-to-knee pose, but with both legs stretched out.

*The black band of cloth is Honor Rae's strapless bra. They hadn't invented those yet.

*It's an old wives tales that states if you sneeze several times someone is talking about you. Whether it's for good or for bad is all up to how you choose to take it. In Korea it's when the inside of you ear itches.

**Thoughts: **Thanks to mayumi mizuki who ever so kindly pointed out that I got the age wrong. It's supposed to be the third age instead of the second age. My mistake. The short chapter is brought to you by the sweet stopping point, causes by the important and dramatic discussion.

Congratulations, you are a wizard Harry.


	4. On the road again

**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.**

_**Disclaimer: All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

* * *

_Nórui the Twenty-ninth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

Despite Tom's calming effect there were times when I couldn't help but remember the world that was once 'home.' Those times came mostly at nights, but also throughout the days. At times the dreams themselves were at least somewhat comforting and at other times they left a cold empty feeling. Sometimes even the 'good' ones left an ache.

Tom noticed I was having problems almost immediately. I, being more than slightly foolish, refused any offers to talk about them. My response was 'no' every time he asked. All I wanted was to find Honor, but that would be impossible to do immediately. This sentiment of wanting to find my sister was the driving force in my studies, especially after one incident.

The day started out like many days of the two weeks I had spent with Tom and Goldberry; a light breakfast and then lessons. It was during an impromptu lesson on wild herbs that it happened.

"The broad leaf is a healer one will assume,  
But only with a white flower bloom."

Tom pointed to a small plant with round leaves. It had a short, thick stem and dainty, white flowers with three petals. As I crouched down to get a closer look at the plant, the smell of rich soil, and another scent wafted up...

* * *

Suddenly, I was in my room back on earth smelling a used candle. The unidentifiable scent filled my senses.

_Comfort._

_Nostalgia. _

Then I was on the deck, tending to my rosemary plant. I breathed in that scent as well; both the plant and the soil. The plant's scent was one well remembered from childhood; a friend had grown one in her basement. The soil was moist and black, both its smell and feel was dear to me...

* * *

Then I was shaken from the memory. Back in the forest with Tom, I was distinctly off balance. The comfort of those familiar smells was gone, replaced by similar but different ones. The sun and light breeze from the deck was traded for the shade and stillness of the forest. The change jarred me; I sucked in breath as I reeled back from the innocent plant. Tom was watching me, concerned. I quickly asserted that I was all right.

"I'm fine." Tom did not look at all convinced. "Really," I added.

That night I lay in bed contemplating the strange... memory? Dream? Flashback? Whatever it had been, it was certainly rattling. That was when the first dream came.

* * *

_A warm smile._

_A pillow fight. _

_Trading notebooks. _

_A tilted grin. _

_Walking as the snow falls. _

_A thousand high-fives. _

_Sprinting through the woods. _

_Late night talks. _

_Laughter._

* * *

_Nórui the Thirtieth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

The next day I was driven to push the lessons to the limits of learning, missing both lunch and dinner. Tom and Goldberry expressed concern at my behavior. I ignored them and at this point I wasn't sure myself of why I was like this. For weeks, I pushed and pushed in my studies; devouring any scrap of information or skill. All the while the dreams continued, however they were now far less pleasant.

* * *

_A blue die. _

_Times gone by, even on earth. _

_Cards, with pictures and writing, a game._

_Swords, beautiful, strong._

_An empty blue chair. _

_Thick, black hair._

_A worn stuffed dog. _

_Warmth._

* * *

_Cerweth the Second of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

I have decided I wouldn't wait any longer to find my sister. Thoughts of where Honor might be had plagued me the entire week (however I was initially stopped from leaving by a voice so similar to Honor Rae's). As I prepared for bed I began to feel a surety of my departure the next morning. Not in my success in finding Honor, but in that I would truly be leaving. I fell asleep with echoes of a half forgotten lullaby in my thoughts.

* * *

_Cerweth the Third of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

I woke before dawn. Enlivened by the thought of starting my search for Honor I began gathering my things. There were the clothes that Goldberry had given me to wear, I saw no reason to take more than necessary so I packed an extra set of them to take along with what I wore. The dresses I left, they would be ruined if I brought them.

I stuffed the food I had secreted away in the last few days into the sack. Finally after gathering a few more things I glanced at my room one more time. I had made the bed and tidied up the room. I closed my eyes for a second before I snapped them open and turned away, closing the door after myself.

* * *

**_To _****_Be Continued..._**

* * *

**Translations:** Cerweth is the seventh month of the year (July) in Sindarin and is a name used by the Dúnedain. Find more information at Realelvish and at the Arda Encyclopedia.

**Explanations:**

*All the visions will serve their purpose. Since I have officially decided that Laura and Honor Rae have indeed met with the valar (although they don't really remember it), they would have gained a slight "sixth sense." No, they cannot _completely_ predict the future like Galadriel nor do they suddenly have telepathy. The most they will get is vague feelings or sense that something may be "off."

Elves _do _have telepathy, however, it isn't used very often, and _**this ability grew with thousands of years of**** age**_. It also isn't very practical, it is easier to just to say whatever you want to say.

**Thought Process:** I apologize for it taking this long. I have finally finished my PSAT test and now I only have to do my Act and SAT tests. I am simply thankful that my brain didn't melt... I may give you chapter number five early, sometime in the next two weeks, possibly?

I had realized that like Old Fatty Lumpkin, Asfaloth wasn't born yet...had to fix that too. So, the white horse is now called Hissael. Hissael means "Wise Eyes."

I am slightly annoyed with the Minnesotan school system. (Swimming class in October, really?) Maybe, my mood will improve during Halloween. I will most likely be staying at home, raiding the candy bowl as well as my brothers' candy sacks. Being a junior apparentally makes you too old for trick-or-treating at my house... Whichever...

If you ask nicely, maybe I will do a Halloween special. Suggests would be welcome, however, the offer ends Halloween 2012.

(But maybe, just maybe, if your suggestions are extra good I will extend the deadline for submissions to the end of the week...)

_Date entered: Monday, October 29, 2012_


	5. Breaking Silence

**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.**

_**Disclaimer:**__** All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

* * *

_N__ó__rui the twenty-third of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

The child had spoken for the first time today. For all of the six days that the hunting party had known him, the elfling hadn't said one word. Glorfindel and many of the hunting party had taken to following Rydre's example and began to tell him stories.

Glorfindel had finished telling a story about how a friend of his called Ecthelion played a joke on him; when the child had laughed and started telling a story of his own. His grandma had a strange sense of humor and one day, she decided to play a joke on him.

The elfling had caught sight of some wild turkeys and had been watching them not too far away. His grandma had snuck up behind and had pinched him shouting, 'Turkey!' The child had been so sure that a turkey had decided to take a bite out of him, that he let out a small shriek and had fled a fair distance away before looking back and seeing that there wasn't any turkey, but only his grandma laughing good-naturedly. The elf-child had been cross at first, before seeing the humor in it, after thinking about it for a bit he had a good laugh right along with her.

The child seemed to realize that he had broken his silence and looked troubled. Glorfindel, not wanting for the elfling to go back to his mute state, asked him more about his grandma. He learned that the child's grandma had short brown hair, had hazel eyes with freckles in them, smelled like Shea butter, and was really tan.

Grandma liked to garden, travel a lot, had a fat, old, black horse called Herbie, and had an odd sense of humor and a personality that the child absolutely loved. Listening to the elf-child's description told Glorfindel that "grandma" was a human, which was only confirmed when he asked what her name was; it was Nancy.

Glorfindel asked about other family, desperate to glean anymore information out of the small youth. Glorfindel learned that the elf-child had a sister that was the same age as him. The elf-child had tried to claim that he was only six, for that's what his body appeared to be when compared to a human child. Glorfindel knew better and called him out on his bluff, he coaxed out the child's true age; the child was nearing the end of his fifteenth year as well as his sister apparently. The elfling had two brothers other than his sister and had said that they "were not the same as my sister or myself."

That led Glorfindel to believe that the elfling had a twin and that they were adopted. The child's fond talk of how the other siblings seemed to grow up so fast, how things didn't seem to change much for him, and few other smaller clues seemed to lead in that direction as well. It also seemed to explain why he was so skittish of the elves at first; being raised by humans for an indefinite amount of time.

However, if the child had a sister, twin or otherwise, where was she? That led to Glorfindel being told about how the elfling had fallen into the river and couldn't swim. His sister had known this and jumped in after him. The elfling had been knocked unconscious by something floating in the river, so he didn't really know what happened to his sister. Although the child's story sounded whole when he was telling it, Glorfindel couldn't shake off the feeling that something was missing.

(Unbeknownst to Glorfindel, Honor Rae had managed not to mention; Laura's name, why they were near the cliff in the first place, the weird sounds and sights that Honor Rae saw just before she died, and of course missed the subtitle hints that Honor Rae was a human with the body of an elf. In fact, Glorfindel also missed all the hints that pointed to the fact that Honor Rae was actually a girl. In Glorfindel's defense though, all of the other elves had thought the same thing; for when they are young, elven girls have the tendency to look like a boy before they hit puberty.

The only real way to tell the difference is through their clothes, their names, and their mannerisms. The hunting party had only a few things to really go by; the clothes were what would be used to dress a male even though they were several sizes too big, the short hair that would be unheard of for a girl, the pierced ears that would be given to a male human sometimes, and the fact that Honor Rae had the tendency to act more like a boy than a girl.)

Aside from that inkling, Glorfindel was confident that he had a vague idea what the elfling had been doing the past few years. Most of the conversation he had saved for a later discussion with Elorne; who Glorfindel had talked with on the subject of the elfling five days ago. They had found many a strange object in a hidden pocket in the long sleeved shirt.

A gray and navy-blue curved object, it was made out of a strange material that they had never seen before, and it also had a metal piece on the top of it. A small circular piece of metal that had glass on side of it; and through the glass one could see symbols that lined its edge and three metal lines of various sizes and widths.

The last things that were in there were two necklaces. One had a thick chain and a small design at the end. The other had a much finer chain that had an amber sun on it, a metal piece went off to the side, and it looked like it used to connect to something else.

They had yet to return the elfling's belongings and Glorfindel had decided to get them from Elorne and return them to their owner. For the issue of Imladris, nothing had been decided as of yet. Glorfindel had told Elorne that they should first speak with Elrond before making any concrete decisions. Decisions like where would the elfling stay, how they would go about searching for its kin, how they would announce the elfling's existence, and so on. Glorfindel didn't really know what in store for the elfling; he couldn't help but pity the poor child.

It had gotten what appeared to be the short end of the stick in Glorfindel's opinion and it saddened him.

Currently, the elf-child was sleeping in his arms as they rode along. The child's story telling had taken place earlier this morning while most of the hunting party was asleep or on watch. The child had fallen silent and refused to utter another word when the other elves had begun to wake up and get ready for their day. It appeared that only Glorfindel was privileged enough to hear the child talk.

The child… Glorfindel also realized that his charge had not given him its name. It irritated him that he couldn't properly address the child. Glorfindel decided to wait for when the child was once again in the speaking mood, for then he would offer the child a choice to choose between telling his true name or receiving a new one for Glorfindel and many other to address him by. Yes, that is what he would do.

* * *

It was Glorfindel's turn to be on watch, and as a result my turn as well. Although Glorfindel said it would be okay if I slept through it, it wouldn't feel fair to me that the others could fall asleep during their turn and I could. Glorfindel had realized after a short period of time that I wasn't going to fall asleep, so after a short silence he began to tell me about a friend of his. I think he was called Ecthelion?

Anyway, both Glorfindel and Ecthelion used to be guards, so they spent a lot of time together along with a few others. Apparently, Ecthelion was a jokester and loved to poke fun at others when the situation called for it. His sense of humor was well liked amongst the elves. Even his best friend Glorfindel wasn't safe from Ecthelion's jests.

This was proven one night during guard duty with three other guards. First, Ecthelion himself had disappeared and after letting his companions sweat it out a bit; he snatched one of the other guards. He silenced the guard, took him a short distance away, and explained what was going on. Once the guard was playing along, he snatched another one.

Ecthelion kept doing this until only Glorfindel was left. After taunting Glorfindel a bit, Ecthelion got through his guard and whispered in his ear, "Got you!" Glorfindel reluctantly admitted to giving a small shrill scream before punching his friend, who didn't really care because he was too busy laughing along with the rest of the guards.

The story had me in stitches from laughing so hard and it reminded me of a trip I had with my Grandpa and Grandma. Glorfindel looked slightly embarrassed from his story, so I couldn't help but tell him a funny one about myself. My Grandparents had taken me to a place called "Old World Milwaukee" in Wisconsin and we were visiting the farmer section it.

I saw some turkeys, so I excitedly pointed them out, and my grandma, who was standing behind me, pinched my butt and shouted, "Turkeys!" I had thought a turkey had bit me so I screamed and ran away… Until I saw it was only my grandma simply pulling the wool over my eyes again. The farmer lady had heard us and came run out to see us laughing like loons, she was so confused.

When I had finished spinning my yarn, I was struck with an alarming thought; what if Glorfindel realized something wasn't right. I mean, he had probably never heard of a Milwaukee, Wisconsin let alone an "Old World" one. What else had I let slip? What if he thinks I am obnoxious?

It wasn't until Glorfindel requested that I should tell him more about my family did I realize I was "off the hook" so to speak. I was more than happy to; it helped me to feel better about the sticky situation I was in. I decided to tell him about the family that I actually liked… That sounds harsh, I know, but I really didn't like my step-dad; he had lost almost all respect I've had for him.

I told him about my grandma first. Grandma was about average height with short brown hair. She has lovely hazel eyes that have little brown spots in them that I call freckles. Grandma is really tan from all the gardening she likes to do in her free time. Grandma also loves to travel a lot and I like to go with when I can. She has a fat, old, black horse called Herbie; I think he is around twenty-eight years old now.

Grandma has a funny sense of humor; it's almost dry, but not quite. As seen with the Turkey incident, Grandma's personality is a little quirky and spontaneous. Grandma couldn't see all that well so she wore glasses or contacts sometimes; although I didn't tell Glorfindel about that. Are glasses even invented yet? Glorfindel had asked what her name was, and I told him it was Nancy and that smelled like Shea butter. Yes, odd thing to say, but that's one of things I remembered the most about grandma.

I paused remembering the last time I saw my grandma was giving her a hug and telling her to have a nice day before I left with Laura. I was satisfied that we left on good terms and that sometimes the last people see of each other is after a big fight or something. Glorfindel didn't let me ponder too long on it before asking me to tell him more. I almost didn't want to, feeling a little tired and not wanting to let anything slip…

However, Glorfindel just looked so genuinely _interested_ in what I had to say. He must have been so truly _bored_ that just about _anything_ would sound interesting. I also trusted Glorfindel, so I knew he wouldn't blackmail me, or something just as nasty, with anything I said.

I told him that I had a sister who was the same age as me and two younger brothers named Kenzo and Kai. Kenzo and Kai were… I almost said Japanese and replaced it with the word 'different.' Did they even have 'Japan' yet? I wasn't really ready to talk about Laura yet; I kept remembering what happened when we… I stopped myself there.

I was, however, more than willing to talk about my two little brothers. I told Glorfindel how I watched them turn from babies into boys. I told him that Kenzo was eight-years old and that Kai was three. They seemed to grow at almost shocking speeds, while personally I never really noticed the change in Laura or myself. Some things never seem to change, I added fondly; remember how my grandma used to say the same thing.

Glorfindel stopped me from going any further by asking a seemingly innocent question, "How old are you, small one?" The one question, out of all the questions he had to ask, he had to ask _that_ one? I certainly can't tell him the truth, but I don't want to lie either! I almost wailed in frustration, I never lied to Glorfindel even _once_, thus far. I didn't want to start _now_. However, Glorfindel was furrowing his brow slightly, I had paused too long! Panicking, I bold-faced lied to him, blurting out that I was six years old.

Six.

_Six_.

I was fifteen for Pete's sake, not _six_, but who would believe that? The correct answer you're looking for here is no one. No one would believe that six isn't-

"No, you're not." At my deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression, Glorfindel caught himself from speaking too harshly and backpedaled. "You are an elf, my dear. Elves age slower than humans. If you were six-summers, you would be the size of a small toddler."

I hesitated; what if he was playing a joke on me and I just couldn't pick up on the sarcasm? I've done that before, because I didn't understand another person's dry humor. Glorfindel seemed to pick up on it and continued, "Elflings age one year every two and a half years. You are easily over a decade."

This convinced me to tell the truth. If he laughs, I'll just pretend I was playing along. Ugh, I need to stop lying. It is driving me _crazy_. "I… I'm really fifteen years old." I confessed.

Glorfindel nodded, "I guessed as much, although I guessed you were around twelve. You are rather small for your age…" He mumbled the last part; I could barely hear the last sentence. Suddenly, he asked me how old my sister was. I had instantly answered that she was the same age that I was.

"Where is your sister?" He sounded almost…concerned? Worried? Anxious?

The truth was that, "I don't know."

"Is she back with Nancy?"

"I don't think so, the last time I saw her was…" I stopped, not wanting the conversation to head in that direction. It was painful enough just think about all the 'what ifs.'

"Was where?" He pressed. He was so insistent; I couldn't deny him the answer.

"Back where I fell in."

"Where did you fall in?" His hands were on my shoulders now and his stare was intense.

"The river, I fell in the river eight days ago."

If it was at all possible, his eyes seemed to smolder. Frozen in place, I found myself almost unable to breathe. "Tell me what happened. Tell me everything."

I was unable to think of anything else but to tell him everything; I almost couldn't get the words out fast enough. "We went to have a picnic by the river. When we finished… we were just walking, when I fell in. I…I can't swim, so she jumped in after me. There was a…" Before I could tell him the weird vision I had, something inside me screamed to keep it secret. It seemed to say that the vision was something special and privy only to me.

"What was there?" I had spaced out and had become temporarily immune to his probing gaze, now it was back and worse the ever. I could barely breathe again, let alone think clearly.

"A… a log or something, something hit me. I don't remember what it was. I also don't remember what happened to her, or how I got out."

"I see." And just like that, the pressure was gone. That overwhelming feeling just disappeared, almost like it was never there. My breath escaped me in one big whoosh, but Glorfindel didn't seem to notice. His eyes were slightly glazed and his eyebrows were furrowed in deep thought.

I was shaken by what just happened; I've never seen him look like that before. It was absolutely terrifying, but he didn't do anything but simply look at me. I opened my mouth to ask something or at least say something, to gain some sense of normalcy. However, I was startled by movement from behind me. I whipped around to see Cael give a smile.

"Sleeping on the job, Glorfindel? Our elfling here is doing a better job at staying awake then you are."

"What are you talking about? I was simply in deep thought." Turning back to Glorfindel, I saw that he was back to normal, with a playful mock-scowl on his face. Had I simply overreacted?

"Oh, really? About what exactly?"

"How long it's going to take for everyone to finally get up and be ready to leave."

"Not much longer I'd say. Most of us are up already and are about to eat. Also, Elorne says that we're going farther distances between breaks. We are a just under a week's ride away from the borders."

"That's good news, the sooner we are in Imladris' borders the better."

"I agree." Cael tossed something in our direction. "Elorne suggested giving him some lembas bread because we will be riding for around six hours or so. There should enough for you too." Glorfindel nodded in thanks as Cael left to finish packing.

"Have you ever tried lembas before?" Glorfindel asked turning towards me. I slowly shook my head. Glorfindel offered the bread to me with assurances that it would keep me full for hours after only a few bites. It was sweet and moist like a fresh croissant straight from the bakery. I had barely eaten half the amount he had given me before feeling very satisfied. Glorfindel stood up and motioned for me to wait as he went to go talk to Elorne. I wrapped the remaining bread in the green fabric the rest of the lembas was in.

Those eyes of his, they frightened me. No, frightened isn't the right word (although they certainly frightened me too), they… troubled me. They looked so…so _old_. With that age came a power to rattle me to my core with merely a look.

The previous sentence sounded like it came out of some cheesy love story, but they weren't smoldering with undying love. Their only desire was for knowledge and answers; for the cold, hard facts. Those eyes had seen so much more than I ever had during my miniscule (by comparison) fifteen years of life.

On the other hand, while those eyes had the power to render me helpless, they offered much warmth. The only ever looked at me with kindness before now. Even during that one instant, if was concern with what happened to my sister and I; however alarming it was. Thinking back on it now, Glorfindel probably didn't even realize he was doing it. He probably does that all the time when he's interrogating people like offending warriors, guards, and enemies.

Maybe it had become practically instinctive to him even.

Whatever it was, it was effective. I was about ready to spill my life's secrets to those eyes, just to get them to stop looking at me like that.

Glorfindel came back leading Hissael as he talked with Elorne. Hissael lowered his great, big head before me and blew a soft greeting to me. I gave a small laugh and rubbed his nose. Hissael nickered quietly before head butting me gently and lifting his head up. Ears picked forward he seemed to be intently listening to what Glorfindel and Elorne were talking about.

I wasn't going to eavesdrop, because it didn't concern me and you know what they say about eavesdroppers. They never like what they hear.

Elorne gave a quick farewell before he left to ready his own horse. Glorfindel, much like last time, plucked me off the ground and set me on top of Hissael. I gripped Hissael's mane as Glorfindel got on behind me. Our mount pranced in place, while we waited for others to get on and leave. At some unknown signal, we all took off at the same time.

* * *

_N__ó__rui the twenty-fourth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

We have been riding for what seemed like ages and I desperately wanted to take a break. My legs were _killing_ me and I wasn't even the one directing the horse with my _thighs_ instead of reins. I think Glorfindel is mentally unstable when it comes to that aspect; but it's his legs on the line, not mine. In fact, I've noticed that all the elves were doing essentially the same thing. They were all basically riding bareback, except with a weird looking saddle that was only there to keep the saddlebags on the horses.

The elves, in a way, reminded me of our Native Americans; with the natural way they prefer to ride their horses. They loved nature and were usually very peaceful. They loved their home and would protect it with all they had. They respected the land and all who lived on it. The things that destroyed said land or needlessly killed other living things, lost that respect; like the orcs, goblins, and the other monsters that were prowling around. I heard that _dragons_ still existed. Imagine that, _dragons_.

I am proud to say that I was finally able to braid Hissael's entire mane; before I was only able to do small sections at a time and during break he would shake them out. Hissael acts annoyed, but I think he actually enjoys it. Of course, I could be wrong considering I don't speak equine. Speaking of equines, there was one that was racing towards us at a break neck speed.

That was our scout.

Glorfindel had talked to Elorne yesterday about sending scouts ahead of us, because he thought it was kind of fishy how things were going so smoothly.

Talk about paranoid.

But now it seemed that his paranoia was justly founded, considering how anxious the scout's expression is. Before Elorne could signal for us to come over there, Glorfindel was already urging Hissael to speed up. In a matter of moments, we were riding along side them as the scout repeated his report for Glorfindel's benefit. "Over yonder, merely minutes away, is a horde of orcs numbering close to a hundred. All are heavily armed for battle. What are your orders?"

"We have just over twenty experienced warriors. We could fight this battle and win with some difficulty, but there is the issue of our charge…" Elorne added, studying Glorfindel's tight expression.

"Take our three of youngest ones and have them take the elfling to the falls where we were planning to camp later this eve. I will stay and fight these orcs with the rest of our company."

Elorne nodded in understanding before calling Ruean, Cael, and Rydre over. "You lot will take the young one to the falls at a fast gallop. Once you are there, you are to wait for us for one day. If there is no sign of our return you are to make all haste for Imladris. Is that understood?" The trio gave the affirmative.

Cael reached over to take me; Glorfindel plucked me off of my seat and handed me to Cael. I squirmed in Cael's arms, finally processing just what was about to happen. "Take this. These belong to him." Glorfindel passed Cael my belongings. It was the final straw; the last thing that dashed all hope that he would be coming with me and not possibly die at the hands of the orcs.

I tried to protest, to find something to make him come with me, but nothing came out of my mouth. Glorfindel refused to look at me; at this point, I wouldn't even get a last, good look at him!

It was when Cael was riding away, when I heard the horrid noise from the orcs, when I saw their ugly mugs from a distance; that was when I snapped. "No! Don't go! Please!" I pleaded. I saw Glorfindel stiffen, but he still refused to look at me. Many of the other elves gave startled and pitying looks. Cael held me tighter so I would fall off of the horse.

"No! Findel! Findel!" I was sobbing so hard, I couldn't even say his name right. The last I saw of him was of him riding to meet head on with the orcs, before I was swept away into the trees.

* * *

I had finally run out of tears; my eyes were puffy, my face was probably red, and my nose was stuffed up. The elves charged with watching me, to their credit, were very understanding and patient. It really was too bad I would be doing this to them, but I absolutely _had_ to know if Glorfindel was truly all right. I would wait until they all fell asleep and then I would sneak back to where the battle took place. Sounds easy, right?

Wrong!

It absolutely took _forever_ until Ruean and Rydre fell asleep and Cael was on watch. The only thing that really worked to my advantage was the noise of the falls. They would be hard pressed to hear me leave. Of course, that meant Cael would twice as focused with his eye sight.

I waited until he turned his attention onto the other side of the falls and made my move. Quietly and silently as I could, I snuck out of my bed roll and scurried to the nearest bush. I waited for Cael to raise the alarm; when he didn't, I figured I was in the clear. I slinked along the forest edge until I got to where we hid the horses.

As soon as I found them, I turned until the falls were completely behind me and started on my mission. I followed what land marks I remembered and when I didn't see any I remembered; I'd guess by trying to follow what (limited) sense of direction I had. It wasn't until my sense of direction failed that I panicked. That was when I realized I did something completely, utterly, and truly stupid.

For all that the elves are patient, they are also very sneaky. I probably sat there panicking for maybe ten to fifteen minutes before they showed themselves and scolded me. I was so relieved to see them; I didn't care what they did anymore. That was also when it sunk in that I wouldn't be able to go trying to find Glorfindel again; and even if I did, I wouldn't be able to go do it by myself. The elves weren't going to let me out of their eyesight anytime soon, for they knew I would try to find my own way to Glorfindel the first chance I got.

Because of my late night adventure and stress over whether or not the other elves were all right, it wasn't a surprise when I fell asleep for real. Since I was asleep, it also wasn't a surprise when I missed the return of the rest of the hunting party.

None of the warriors died, but some were moderately injured. Elorne had patched up the wounded as best as he could; while the non-injured elves burnt all of the orc corpses. Amongst the non-injured, I would later be relieved to see Glorfindel. However, before then I would be forced to endure my nightmares.

Lately, I have somehow managed to not have any nightmare of me drowning. Or with Laura blaming me for everything. Or my grandparents in mourning. Or the usual nightmares I got that caused me to have trouble sleeping a few times in the week. But now, I think they were trying to make up for lost time…

* * *

_I had opened my eyes to find myself in my old private school. The brick walls surrounding me like a maze; claustrophobic and befuddling. I wandered down the forlorn halls with my feet pitter-pattering on the tile floors. The classrooms were dark and the corridor was dimly lit with a flickering light that threatened to go out. I was eerily reminded of the game, __'Elementary'__ that stared the killer, Slender man. I heard the sounds of giggling and laughter around the corner; the hair at the back of my neck stood up. I screamed at myself to turn back and to _stop going in that direction._ My body, seemingly having a mind of its own, proceeded anyways._

_Just as I was about to turn the corner, the scene changed and I was in the school playground. Girls surrounding me in a circle; they laughed and stated to chant, "Crybaby, crybaby; a fat, little crybaby. What's the matter, crybaby?"_

"_I am not a crybaby! Leave me alone!" I yelled; my voice cracking as I held back a sob._

"_Look! She's going to cry! Come, let's hear it! Go on, cry for us, you big baby!"_

"_I am not going to cry…" I whimpered, looking around for the teacher. 'Where is Mrs. Clues when you need her?' Suddenly, a bucket of dirt was dumped on my head. The girls jeered and guffawed when I finally started bawling. They, of course, immediate scattered and left me there when the bell signaling the end of recess rang._

_The scene changed once again, this time I was at a public school. A group of boys kicked the ball too hard and it landed behind me. Wanting to join them in their game, having previously been denied, I ran over to go fetch it. _

_The boys hollered at me to leave it and not touch it; ignoring them, I picked it up and trotted over in their direction. One of the boys ran towards me and I held the ball in front of me to give it to him. The hopeful smile on my face disappeared, when he knocked the ball aside and tackled me to the ground._

_Stunned, I limply lied there, at first, when he started to hit me, yelling something unintelligible. Finally, I raised my arms to protect my face and to stop the blows. He got up after a few more strikes, grabbed the ball, and ran back to his friends like nothing happened. I had gotten up, ran to the bathroom, washed off my face, and stopped my nose from bleeding. I didn't cry this time, crying doesn't help anyone._

_The next scene was when I was in Junior high. It started off as a snowball fight that ended badly. We had chased a boy who liked to make fun of us a lot inside the school. Laura held her snowball and glared at him through the window. Faster than ever of us could react; he reached through the door and slammed her face into the metal edge of the window. Laura had fallen onto her knees, holding her mouth, and let out small cries. I ran to her and ordered her to remove her hand from her mouth. _

_There was blood._

_Fury, like I never felt before, encompassed me. _

_I didn't see red._

_No, I just saw my self-proclaimed sister hurt and the villain running away. Never again, would I let this happen to someone I loved. If I couldn't stop people from picking on me, I could at least stop it from happening to someone else. I had first lead Laura to the nurses office with another girl helping me, before I ran back to the buses which were about to leave. I went to the nearest adult and stonily explained what happened._

_They didn't react fast enough._

_They didn't understand me and asked me to repeat. I did. Then they had the gall to ask if I knew when the boy was, if Laura was okay, and how I knew this happened._

_All pointless questions._

_Laura, the girl, and I spent over an hour in the office explaining everything over and over again. The girl had to leave early; causing Laura and I to stay even longer. We got rebuked, because we were returning fire on the boy who first started the snowball fight, and then they claimed that we provoked him into causing Laura's face to be bashed into the sharp metal bar. _

_Laura had to be driven home in the police car because she had no ride. I got scolded by my parents because I didn't call home sooner. They promised that the boy would face consequences. All of this pain and trouble, but the boy got off scot-free._

_They lied._

_Many scenes like this one melded together until they became an unidentifiable blur of color, sound, and emotion. Finally, it halted on the scene where I fell off the edge of the cliff…_

_I felt the ground given underneath me. I saw the look of horror Laura give as she made a mad grab for me, while I slipped through her fingers. I heard the cold, hard smack my body made as it hit the river. I relived my drowning; only this time, I _felt_ myself _die_. I relived the death my subconscious originally tried to save me from feeling._

_I relived the memories of water forcing its way down my throat, my futile attempts of trying to cough out the water, and the painful feeling of suffocation. The light had slowly faded away as I sunk to the depths of the river. _

_I felt myself ram into one of the many rock formation in the St. Croix River. I could feel my body shut down and my heart give its final beat. Its last painful squelch and my brain shut down last. I seemed to relive those last moments repeatedly without ceasing, when suddenly it all stopped. _

_Again came that feeling of peace that fluttered in my chest. _

_Again came those indistinct whispers that surrounded me._

_Again came the music that swelled around me._

_But, I couldn't shake the feeling that…_

…_something had changed…_

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

**Translations:** Lembas is roughly translated to "bread of life." One bite of lembas is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man. One _whole_ cake is sufficient for a full day's march.

**Explanations:**

*Elven ladies still can be mistaken for males even after they hit puberty. Tolkien describes the ladies as being as tall and broad-shouldered as the men. So unless they are expecting babies or are nursing said babies, they are most likely going to be in the A-cup to B-cup range. Just saying.

*List of strange objects:

-Inhaler

-Watch

-Necklace with the cross of the resurrection. Honor Rae is a Roman Catholic. If you have any questions about her faith, feel free to ask.

-The amber sun necklace connects to Laura's aventurine crescent moon necklace.

*Voice Magic: Elf-lords have it. I've noticed that Tolkien characters with a lot of years behind them (Read: Gandalf, Tom Bombadil, Elrond, Galadriel, Glorfindel, Saruman, etc.) have powerful "voice magic" that can have a heavy influence on a person should that use it. However, I have notice it can only be used by wizards and a select few elves. (We don't know what Tom is exactly, so he is considered an exception.)

**Advertisement:** (Wow, I haven't done an advertisement in a while...)

**TITLE:** Astray

******AUTHOR: **antiheld******  
**

**********ID:** 6001015

**************SUMMARY: **An unknown force has begun to alter Middle-earth and its creatures in alarming ways, and it becomes apparent that there are worse things to lose than lives. An unsuspecting woman from our world gets swept up in a storm that has taken a world off course.

******************OPINION:** A little confusing at first. However, it maintains an originality that is unique to this Fan Fiction. I would label it as a possible AU after the War of the Rings.

**Thought Process:**My birthday is tomorrow... I am seventeen as of November 6, 2012... Good grief...

I am updating earlier than I usually would have _because_ of my birthday. I am following the Hobbit custom of giving away presents on your birthday. I would have update this on the actual day of said birthday, but I am expecting that I will be busy. My mom has "kidnapped" me from school for the day tomorrow. I thought she was kidding at first, but apparently she's serious.

Happy election day... Ugh...

_Date Updated: Monday, November 5, 2012_


	6. Terabithia

**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.**

_**Disclaimer: All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

* * *

_Cerweth the Third of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

I paused to glance at my map yet again, fruitlessly. The trail I was supposed to have been following had faded hours ago, leaving me guessing. Earlier the warm sunlight of late afternoon was comforting, now the semi-dusk for some reason had a sharpness to it. Near where I guessed and hoped I was, there was the simple word, 'barrows.' Unsure of the meaning, I decided to ignore it and just continue; seeing as my supposed path wouldn't cross it.

A chill ran up my spine and I realized that during my musings the sun had set completely. I searched for a climbable tree nearby finding one (a gnarly old oak) to my immediate left I climbed nearly a quarter way up before finding a decent branch. Once there after a tiring ascent, I secured my pack so it would not fall, leaned against the tree, and let my mind wander...

* * *

I was half awake, lost in a blur of memory, imaginings, and dreams. I usually can't recall my dreams; however, one stood out from the blend. I was sitting with tom at the table, the warm glow of fire seeped through everything. Tom was telling a tale, when suddenly memory griped me yet again; pulling me. My attention snapped back, the formerly comforting fire now casted the room in harsh light. Tom grew silent, I turned away from the fire to him. He spoke again; his words slower.

"You are Solreen, trapped by memory, wanderer, shackled to the past you reach for what remains, for what will be."

He did not speak as usual, but yet still in riddles. At his words, I felt something settle; a sense of more. The entire room seemed different yet not, as if I had previously been colorblind and now I was not. The shapes and colors were the same but now everything went deeper; possessing more than before. And as I glanced back to the fire, I saw my shackles of memory.

_The red of fall had arrived in the sumac._

_The first snow of winter as I twirled._

_The roaring river of spring, no more than a foot away as I sat fearless._

_The wind and storms of summer. _

_Twin puffs of breath as we walked home. _

_Matching smiles. _

_Understanding._

My gaze broke when Tom spoke again, but it was not his own voice; it was my uncle's. "Our family does not give up. Especially not on each other." Then the room faded.

* * *

_Cerweth the Fourth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

I woke to silence, it was still dark and the moon was only half way across the sky. A cold feeling of unease grew and I glanced down. A flash of metal as something moved below sent chills up my spine. The urge the get as far away as possible griped me as I turned my eyes upward, looking for a way to get even higher. Finding one I climbed as far as I could, in my eyes it was nowhere near far enough. The rest of that night was spent clutching my sack and praying that whatever was below me would not climb, if it did I had no chance. That terrified me. Needless to say I slept no more until dawn.

The _things_ had left a bit before and now I scrambled from the tree and left, I did not stop until afternoon when I was nearly sleeping on my feet. I climbed a nearby oak which was also the tallest, climbable tree in sight, until I was as high as I could safely go. Leaning against the slightly rough bark, I closed my eyes.

I know I dreamed then but all I recalled after was a light and the same sense of more. I woke again to cold silence and darkness and again sleep was not forthcoming. The next morning as I walked I considered my dilemma (really more like massive problem), the thought of switching my days and nights formed. At first I dismissed it, until later I happened to witness the acrobatics of a nearby squirrel. The little creature skittered from branch to branch, tree to tree, and it was then that I knew my course of action.

I climbed into the nearest tree and proceeded to practice moving not vertically but horizontally. I did this until early evening when I perched in the high branches of my current tree. Again I slept until night came, again they were waiting below, and again I remained awake. When morning came I did not climb down but instead traveled tree by tree. This of course came with mishaps seeing as I was wholly unpracticed and unskilled in the art of tree traveling. After most of a day of solely this, I had a bit of surety of my (dubious) ability.

I stopped around evening again to sleep and yet again woke to the things. That night I did not stay perched in a single tree waiting for dawn, I set off among the canopy. Like the earlier squirrel, branch to branch, tree to tree. I always knew there was some reason I liked squirrels. The night passed, and I stopped yet again, tired I leaned against my current tree and slept.

I was in a forest, golden sunlight filtered through the trees and warming my skin. The ground I stood on was soft but firm while around me puddles had formed at lower points. They were clear as glass and moss grew around and in them, tree roots ran all about. As I gazed into the little pools the words of a childhood friend came to mind. "They are doors, to other places. Step in one and you might go through." That had been our game then, avoiding puddles. Now those before me almost glowed with an odd clarity, drawing me in. One word described the place:

_Terabithia._

* * *

_Cerweth the Ninth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

I woke around dusk and started off again. This pattern of sleeping by day and traveling by night continued for nearly five days before anything changed. The last night I stopped shortly before dawn and settled in my current tree before falling asleep.

* * *

Gandalf woke to clear morning light. Stretching, he noted the position of the sun; a tad over the treetops. As his gaze returned to his surroundings he glimpsed a shadowed shape among the branches of a nearby tree. Unsure of what it was, his first thought of it being a barrow-wight was dismissed as it was day. Certainly it was no foul creature, for it would have attacked in the night (or tried at least). The notion of it being either dwarf or hobbit was inconceivable; dwarves were not fond of trees and no proper hobbit would even consider resting in a tree, much less in one so far from home.

That left whoever it was as being of the race of men. However the form was far too small to be either man or woman, leaving them as... a child. He called out a greeting. "Hello." There was neither reply nor reaction. Gandalf tried again, this time far louder. And when the figure yelped before jerking and tumbling from their perch, he thought perhaps that he had been a bit too loud.

Concerned, he approached what he could now tell for certain was a child. A girl, looking to be around six or seven years of age, peered at him warily from behind a bit of long, dark hair fallen loose.

"Are you hurt child?" There was no reaction other than a blank stare.

Again he tried to get the girl to respond, only this time when she gave him a confused look he realized she couldn't understand him. He had been speaking in the most common form of Westron for the area, but now he began to try all the other dialects and versions he knew, with absolutely no success. Slightly frustrated, he sighed. Inspecting the child before him he tried to find anything telling about her origin.

Her clothes were of good make, but worn. Other than that and the circumstances, there was something a little odd about the child. She obviously was not a villager of any sort, nor was it likely she was of farmer stock; not out here so far from any settlements. A theory began to form.

He tried speaking to her in the unique, and previously untried, dialect of the Dúnedain. When even this failed to be understood Gandalf swore softly.

* * *

Jerking out of a sound sleep I fell from the branch I had been resting on, landing with a sharp stab of pain. I quickly scanned around me fearful of whatever those things had been. There was an old man standing not all that far from me. Some of my hair had come loose and blocked part of my vision, but I could tell well enough that he didn't look to be anyone overly nasty.

He said something in a language I couldn't understand at all, and now my ankle was hurting from my landing. He repeated whatever it was that he had said in the first place. Did... did he think I had not heard him the first time? It seemed to dawn on him that I couldn't understand a word he said.

He tried again, slower and I suspected in another language. The tones were different from before, although the way he spoke it was the same. Unfortunately, I still couldn't understand even the gist of what he was saying. I shifted a bit and sharp pain lanced through my left ankle, to hide it I bit down on my lip. The man continued speaking, pausing often, apparently trying even more languages that I couldn't understand. Eventually he stopped and sighed.

Silence stretched as he peered at me, giving me the feeling of being analyzed. Then he spoke again, and I found myself noting an almost expectant glint in his eyes. As if he was sure of me understanding him, only it turned out I still couldn't.

When he realized this he muttered something under his breath and to my surprise I understood him. And no, I will not repeat it. Suffice to say that it involved both orcs, trolls, and was quite crude. Well, at least he knew Sindarin.

After a moment he realized that I had understood him and stopped, then spoke again. "Are you hurt?"

Hurt? Whatever had given him _that_ idea? _Besides_ the fact that I had _fallen_ from _half-way_ up a _tree_ only minutes ago. Either way, I responded, if a bit flatly, "Yes, my ankle." As I spoke I moved my ankle, so it was easier to see and examine, I suppose.

He immediately approached and knelt to have a look. I was slightly surprised at how easily and quickly he moved, certainly faster than any other with that much grey hair... My reverie was broken as he pressed gently against the joint, which despite his efforts was painful. Grimacing, I tried to stay still, he was helping me despite our very recent meeting after all. After a few moments he looked up from my annoyingly injured limb. "It's sprained, you shouldn't walk on it for awhile."

I really wanted to repeat his earlier curse. How was I supposed to do anything like this?! Freaking aye, I was now officially useless.

Fudge.

The man was speaking again and after my internal panic, I registered what he had said. That he was going to splint it. He rose and walked around the clearing, after a bit he returned with some very straight twigs. He knelt again and pulling some cloth over it. He began wrapping it around both my ankle and the twigs. It was tight, painfully so, but he worked quickly and after he was done wrapping, the sharp pain faded to a dull ache.

I tried to stand but he stopped me, picking me up and carrying me closer to the ashes of his fire. He spoke again, "What is your name child?"

Slightly annoyed at being called a child(no matter how true that might be here) and still in some pain, I responded frankly, "Solreen." I paused before asking, "What is yours?"

He wore an odd look before I had asked his name and then when I did, he responded rather cheerily, "I am Gandalf. May I ask why you were sleeping so high in a tree?"

I shivered slightly despite the warm sun. "I was being followed, and it was better than the ground." I watched his face closely as I spoke, a bit wary. After all, I had really just met him and first impressions aren't always accurate. And how had he avoided those things? It was due to this, that I caught a look of concern that otherwise I would never have seen. Perhaps he really didn't have any ill intentions.

Hopefully.

I was pulled from my thoughts when the ma- Gandalf, spoke, "Followed? By who?"

By who? More like by what. I felt chilled. Whatever those things were, they certainly weren't friendly locals searching for travelers to offer food and bed to. If only. "I don't know, and I wouldn't say who. They are more of a what."

He appeared to chew on that thought, before asking another question, "Out of curiosity, how old are you, Solreen?"

Me, being the _wonderfully_, _brilliant_, _smart_ person I am, blurted it out. No matter that I knew I had the appearance of a munchkin, "Fifteen." Yes, amazing plan. Just open your idiotic gob and cough up something no sane person would believe... Just _fan-freaking-tastic_.

Now imagine my surprise when this Gandalf didn't stare at me or laugh it off as some crazy childish notion. No, he appeared utterly serious and like he had suspected it all along. Maybe he wasn't entirely sane? Definitely possible.

"Then, where is your family?"

Oh, great. Asking about family, perfect. What do I say? Oh, yeah. I'm looking for my sister, we fell in a river. Oh you want to know where my parents are? Your guess is as good as mine!...Right, like that would go over well... Seeing as I had to answer at some point I simply replied, "I don't know."

Oddly, Gandalf seemed unsurprised. But then again why would any...minor...be sleeping in a tree in the middle of nowhere because they were being followed by things? Either way, he then asked yet another pesky question, "Where did you last see them?"

Honor. The river. Oh dear Lord. My fault, all my fault.

That day had started out pleasantly enough; a simple, peaceful picnic by the river before role-playing with the group. It, however, ended far from either simple or peaceful. Walking by the cliff, what imbeciles we were.

The earth giving way beneath me, Honor's look of surprise and horror, her hand catching mine before I could fall.

The momentum making her stumble a bit and put weight on another weak spot.

Honor falling.

Falling.

Terror.

Gut-wrenching fear, fear of losing my only true family.

Following, trying to reach her.

Failing.

Failing, watching as she went under.

Lost.

And it was all my fault.

* * *

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

**Translations: ***Cerweth is July.

*****Westron is common tongue.

*****Sindarin is the main language of the elves.

**Explanations: ***Solreen [Laura] is more likely to have visions than Honor Rae. However, her vision will usually be of the past or the present. Honor Rae will have a vision on occasion, but hers are usually of the future or soon-to-be-present.

*****Those things are the barrow-wights, as those of you who have read the books will immediately understand. They were sent by the Witch King of Angmar to haunt the Barrow Downs after the fall of Cardolan. They are basically reanimated bodies of the buried kings possessed by demons. They are rather like zombies.

*****Anyone can climb trees and anyone could leap from tree to tree if they were close enough. 'The southern edge of the forest was primarily oak and ash, being much more dense than the pine and fir-filled north.' The densest I have seen of a pine and fir forest was a tree every six to eight feet (not jumpable for a human and possibly not even the elves). If the oak and ash forest was denser, then in the best case scenario there would be a tree every three to five feet. Three to five feet _is_ jumpable if you don't mind losing some height while you are at it.

Common side-effects of being inexperienced while doing this would be: bruises, skinned hands, possible panic-attacks, and may not be limited to falling and spraining/breaking limbs, falling and getting concussions, or falling to death if high enough.

*****Terabithia- Just had to have it mentioned, I _loved_ that movie and book. Made me cry, but I still loved it.

*****Dúnedain (singular: Dúnadan) were the Men who descended from the Númenóreans who survived the fall of their island kingdom and came to Eriador in Middle-earth. After the fall of Arnor and then Arthedain, some of the northern Dúnedain became the Rangers of the North in Evendim. The Rangers of the North, also known as Watchers or simply Rangers, were the last remnant of the Dúnedain who had once populated the Northern-kingdom of Arnor.

Gandalf thinks that Solreen [Laura] is a daughter of one of those rangers. He is also not all that surprised at her age, because 'direct descendants of the Dúnedain are known to live longer than normal Men. It is said that Dúnedain live three times longer than normal Men; that would translate into 240 to 250 years of average lifespan, given normal human lifespan of 80 years.'

'They spoke together in soft voices, at first using the Common Speech, but after the manner of older days, and then changing to another language of their own. To his amazement, as he listened Frodo became aware that it was the Elven-tongue that they spoke, or one but little different; and he looked at them with wonder, for he knew then that they must be Dúnedain of the South, men of the line of the Lords of Westernesse. - description of Faramir's Rangers, as perceived by Frodo'

The Númenóreans and the Dúnedain spoke languages besides Westron, most notably Sindarin. However, more likely than not they may also have had a dialect of their own. It is possible that this little fact might have slipped his mind.

*****Funny thing is I _could_ see Gandalf letting a curse or two slip.

*****As stated before, once she is out of range for Tom Bombadil's calming/ mind numbing presence, all bets are off. Inevitably, she _will_ panic and have a break down. She has managed to avoid it, because until now she has been able to ignore that giant elephant in the room.

**Advertisements: **

**TITLE: **The Mandrake Child**  
**

**AUTHOR: **WindSurfBabe**  
**

**ID: **7538970**  
**

**SUMMARY: **If only he'd been mean, she thought. If only he'd been resentful and harsh, she could have done her duty with a clear conscience, and the regret his death had brought would not have been.**  
**

**OPINION:** It reduced me to tears, it was so moving. A must read.

**Thought Process: **I have a brimming excitement that goes from the very tips of my toes to the last strand of hair on my head. Did you make your wish(es) yesterday? We made ours. This week has been simply lovely.**  
**

_Date Updated: Thursday, December 13, 2012_


	7. Fate or not Fate?

**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.  
**_**Disclaimer:**__** All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

* * *

_Nórui the twenty-fifth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

Cael had told Glorfindel how the elfling had tried to run away from them and find the rest of the hunting party, "He was very upset. He wept for a long time before he calmed down and even then it was only because all of his tears had dried up."

Rydre cheekily added, "In case it was hard to tell, he is extremely attached to you. It is almost like he imprinted upon you. Do you think you can handle being a mother?" This caused a few snorts and chuckles at Glorfindel's expense. Glorfindel growled and told them to shove off.

Glorfindel stole a glance at the elfling that had caused everyone, especially himself, so much worry. The child had a frown on his face as if having an uncomfortable dream. Glorfindel was loath to wake the lad up, but it was time they got a move on. It was late morning by now; Elorne had said that everyone needed extra rest before leaving. Hissael was already packed and most of the other elves were already done with their packing as well. Glorfindel had put it of long enough.

Gently shaking the elfling, he waited patiently want for the elfling to wake up. "Small one," Glorfindel whispered, "we must leave now."

The child's eyes snapped open; blue eyes openly stared and assessed Glorfindel, asserting that he indeed existed. "Fin…del?" He asked faintly.

"Yes, it is me. We must leave now though." Glorfindel reached out his arms and waited for the child to leap into his arms. He didn't have to wait long, but the child didn't leap so much as he dove into his arms. Glorfindel gently cradled the small elf with one arm as he mounted Hissael.

"I was scared you wouldn't come back." His soft voice cracked and his small hands gripped Glorfindel's shirt tightly, as he wept softly with relief.

"But, I did." Glorfindel reassured him; slightly alarmed with the tears. Rubbing the elfling's back, he continued, "I came back."

* * *

_Nórui the twenty-ninth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

I didn't talk again after Glorfindel came back; I just wasn't in the mood. Although I probably wouldn't admit it, I was a little mad at Glorfindel for leaving me. I am being selfish, I know, but I tend to be a little…_possessive_ when dealing with people I care about. And, to tell the truth, I am slightly amazing that I managed to stay irritated with him for this long.

Usually, I can't stay mad at anyone, or in some cases anything, for very long. Maybe this shows how much I loathe the idea of anyone I care for riding out to their death. I pictured the idea of Laura riding on a horse to war with some orcs and shuddered. The state of my mood wasn't helping with the continuous night-terrors I've been receiving lastly.

The reoccurring nightmares have got worse lately; as an example, they showed the one time Laura and I ever got into an actual fight. That was probably one of the most painful experiences of my life. No blows were thrown, but if there were none of them would have amounted to the fright and dread I felt.

That was the time I truly and seriously mourned losing a friend, because this was a friend who actually cared about me. The only thing I could probably compare this to is being disowned from a family that _you_ care for, love, and/or admire greatly. It took close to a week before it ended, with my constant pleading and, most likely, bothering her.

I don't know when or how it happened exactly, but when we made up, it was probably one of the happiest moments of my life. I would like to compare it to a broken bone; after it breaks, it tends to heal and be stronger than ever. It sounds like a cheesy comparison, but it's the best way to put it.

Of course, not all of those nightmares end so happily. I tended to go back to the moments with my step-dad. Like one time when I was in the fourth grade back in private school; I did something disrespectful or really bratty, I can't remember what for the life of me, and he set up a punishment for me. There was an old fashion chair in our apartment that had pink, orange, and brown stains on its white cushioned seat.

He put it in the bath tub and put some liquid of it and told me to scrub. I did so for the rest of the night after trying repeatedly to get out of doing it. I was given oranges and bread with milk for dinner. At the time I was very dismayed at the food, for I was quite the little glutton back then and on the chubby side. Looking back I saw that he could have easily sent me to bed without any dinner at all.

He woke me up two hours before school started, around seven in the morning, and had me scrub at it some more. Every time that I complain that it wasn't coming off; he moved me aside and roughly scrubbed off a small part of a stain saying that I wasn't doing it hard enough. He kept me there until he had to go to work.

I missed the bus and stood there for a few hours until my Grandma drove over to my place to see why I wasn't at school. (I had forgotten that there was a play in my class room that I was supposed to be a part of on grandparents' day.) Long story short, I had got chemical burn on both of my hands and had to get them wrapped up in gauze. For over two weeks it looked like I was wearing giant, over-sized, white mittens. I'm ashamed to say that I completely milked it for all it was worth…

There were some nightmares that didn't make any sense at all. Like in one I was stuck in a dark, dark place. The darkness was like one you would only find in the inside of a cow's seven stomachs; pitch black. There were whispers, but they were harsh ones accented by growls and cackling. There was music, but one that gave the emotions of discord, fear, hate, pain, and…sadness.

No, not sadness, the feeling was too intense for sadness; it was…it was a feeling I had felt before, it was despair.I have no idea long I was in that place, but it felt like an eternity. I felt vulnerable and scared stiff in a place where everything was unclear and hidden in shadows. I don't think anything could describe the all-consuming _terror _I felt during the whole time I was there.

I would wake up and not be able to fall back asleep anymore for the rest of the night. I usually spent those nights awake watching the other elves as they slept. I learned that elves seemed to sleep with their eyes open and it was a mystery for me as to why their eyes didn't dry out.

My only company during those nights were the animals, for the elf on watch didn't know I was awake and he usual wasn't anywhere near me. I would listen to the music they would make; hoots from owls, snorting and nickering from horses, soft bird calls, squeaks from mice and other small animals, frogs croaking, and crickets chirping. The wait for dawn never seemed to last long.

* * *

_Cerweth the first of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

After the sixth day of silence, I couldn't take it anymore. I was no longer mad at Glorfindel and I hadn't been for the past few days. I was just being stubborn; my childish urges and instincts not letting me. I had bade him a soft good morning when he woke up and Glorfindel smiled, wishing me a good morning as well. I sheepishly smiled back at him, embarrassed at how stupid I had been acting for the past few days. Glorfindel didn't appear to be mad at me and acting as if I haven't been giving him the silent treatment for close to a week. For that I was quite thankful.

After Glorfindel had fed me and we had been riding Hissael for some time, he announced to me, "Small one, we will be crossing the borders of the Imladris very soon. Once we do that, we will be sending a messenger ahead of us to announce our arrival, which will be in the late afternoon."

"What will happen then?" I asked with no small amount of anxiety.

"I will escort you to my house; there we will take baths and eat. I will show you to your room then I must report to Elrond." Glorfindel answered slightly distracted. Frowning, he suddenly waved over Cael.

"Yes, Lord Glorfindel?"

"When you report our arrival, leave the news of the young one's presence to me. The knowledge will be quite a surprise to Elrond and he may not believe it at first." Cael nodded, rode his horse to the front of the group, and then gradually out of sight.

"Who is Elrond?" He sounded like the top dog at this Imladris place.

"He is the Lord of Imladris." Glorfindel paused and then added, "Much like a mayor to a human town. He is also the best healer we have."

"Oh." I was right, this Elrond person _is_ the head honcho and I'm an unexpected surprise… Oh joy.

I was a nervous wreck until I realized that I would most likely never see this Elrond in person. I mean, so what? There was a child found during the hunt, big whoop. He probably _would_ be a little surprised and might put it down as a joke, unless the person in charge of the hunt told him it was true. This Elrond probably had bigger fish to fry than some insignificant elfling. I felt instant relief at this revelation, there wouldn't be some creepy old man giving me a beady eyed look or anything. As for what happens tomorrow, I guess I will find out later, now won't I?

It was still mid-morning, so we would probably be riding for another six to eight hours. When I check through my returned belongs a few days ago, I was disappointed to find that my watch was broken. The time was forever frozen on twelve twenty-nine with one second left before twelve thirty. The date was stuck on the fifteenth of June.

I also had my inhaler back, it didn't appear to be tampered with and for that I was thankful. The two things I was happiest to have returned to me were the two necklaces I had.

One was from my grandma, it and a thick chain with the cross of the resurrection on it. Sometimes, it seemed like it smelled like my grandma; shea butter, pond's cream, and other flowery scents. The other had a much finer chain that had an amber sun on it; a metal piece went off to the side that connected to Laura's necklace. Hers was an tanzanite moon necklace; it was a beautiful deep blue that had the appearance of ripples on it. Wherever Laura was, I'm sure she was wearing it right now…

I only had those four meager belongings and my homemade Green Link costume. I thank Grandma Reinhart (Not the Grandma Schaeppi I am always mentioning, this is my Grandma's mother.) for teaching me how to sew with _and_ without a sewing machine. I can't do the almost invisible stitching she does, but I _can _do pretty, dang small ones.

When I signed up for the Home E.C. class at my school, I was surprised to find that I was one of the few who could sew without the machine or be able to make the perfect grilled cheese sandwich. (You can _not_ forget to add the peanut butter and mayonnaise… I wonder if they had invented peanut butter or mayonnaise yet? )

I took out my green hat for the small little pack I was giving to look in the inside of it. There was piece of durable fabric sewn in there with my grandma's neat little signature, 'To my Onnie, Love Grandma.' I rubbed the inside of it feeling a little misty-eyed. Yes, that was the only thing I could never get right. I could never sew a hat just the right way.

Grandma saw how hard I was trying and was kind enough to make one for both Laura and myself. Mine was more sentimental because grandma put a personalized message in there; my Grandma Reinhart didn't know Laura, so her hat was more like a project than anything else.

I stuck the hat on my head, feeling it slip over my ears now that it was a little too big for me. Now that I thought of it; I didn't have any mementos of my Grandpa Schaeppi, Dennis. That depressed me, because he was my 'wise man of the jungle,' so to speak. He seemed to know _everything_; the times were few and far between when he said the words, "Well, I don't know Honor. Why don't you ask your Grandma?"

I remembered all the times I played Mancala with him or checkers. He would almost always beat me. When he did, I always vow, "You may have won this time Grandpa, but I'll mop the floor with you next time!" Grandpa would laugh, show me the moves I did wrong, and what I could have done instead. Then he proceeded to trounce me the next game. I missed him so much…I missed everyone… especially Laura.

And now that I thought about it, it was getting closer to both my and Laura's joint birthday; September eleventh. It was merely seventy-two more days away. Now you know the reason why we call each other twins, it's easy to see when we were born on the same day. It was just another one of those odd coincidences, right? Laura likes to joke around and say that it was fate or something. Fate or otherwise, I didn't care. I am just happy that I had met her that one day in Junior High School.

We met each other in Mr. Ruesom's history class. I was sitting in my assigned seat on the far side of the room next to the windows. A student aide sat beside me in a nice plastic chair, she watched all the troublesome kids who I was completely surrounded by. Believe it or not, but the majority of those "trouble makers" were girls… and I was numbered among them.

For I had a tendency to read during class or get in fights with people who would be considered the junior and senior high school version of bullies; although the fights never got physical like they were in grade school. Now it was mostly a battle of wits…usually I was get pretty heated and ream them out, just when there happened to be an adult walking by. I would get yelled at by the teacher for being temperamental and vindictive to people; who, by the way, got off scot-free and the person I helped defend left me there on the hot seat.

Anyway, I had my book taken away from me by the student aide; so I was paying attention for once, instead of learning about poisonous tropical plants and insects. Mr. Ruesom droned on about some sort of war (he was by _far_ my worst history teacher. I love history, but his vapid lectures robbed all the fun out of it and caused me to dread his classes.), when there was a knock on the door.

In came two transfer students, one being a boy called Solomon and the other being Laura. Immediately felt an instant connection with her, because when she took a seat (somewhere in the middle of the classroom, nowhere _near_ close enough to me), she took out a thick book, buried her nose in it, and started to read.

The first thing I did was walk over and introduce myself after class; instead of being a dork and gossip about Laura, or judge her before talking to her like most of the class. It turned out to be one of the smartest decisions of my life. It was even smarter than my solution to being able to ride a horse.

I had discovered that if I wore gloves, one of those hospital masks, and goggles; my allergies wouldn't react if I only did it during winter. I had convinced my grandma and grandpa to let me ride in my regular winter gear plus my "ridiculous get up." I had been able to ride Herbie and live the dream for just a little bit longer. Grandma _still_ wouldn't let me muck the stall _or_ feed the horse though. She said that would be tempting fate.

There was that word again, _fate_. What was it? I certainly didn't believe in it. It didn't exist, I make my own destinies. Everything that happened was by chance, wasn't it? It was merely chance that I didn't drown in that river… or in this case that I _did_ drown in that river and that I survived. It was merely chance that I was found by Glorfindel when and where I was, wasn't it? There wasn't anyone pulled the so-called "strings of reality," was there?

I know there is a greater being than me, as well as lesser beings than that great being, who were still greater than me. However, why would they bother with me? Or was it simply that it didn't matter _who_ it was, I just happened to be the most convenient person; one that had no future; a dead man (or in this case woman) walking? If that was true, then what was my purpose?

…What if there wasn't any purpose and it was as I said before, merely chance?

…Chance that I slipped through Death's fingers and ended up here?

…What then?

Everything that happened for the past sixteen days (Were they only sixteen?) was merely an accident? Everything that has, is, and will happen, simply a fluke?

I can't accept that.

I can _not_ take that lying down.

If I can't change this so-called fate, then I'm going to change my attitude. I'll change this accident in to something that I'm doing on purpose. I will not be held down for long! Nothing will stand in my way!

_Nothing_ can defeat the amazing, wise-woman-of-the-forest, ninja-extraordinaire: Honor Rae Schae-

_**Growl.**_

…Well, except for that maybe… My stomach can keep me in line from planning-world-domination-like monologues… Maybe I should just leave those to Laura. Total dominion over everyone makes me feel perturbed. Also, that usually happens when I don't get enough sleep; I go off the deep end.

Maybe a little nap would do me some good. I mean, I'm not going for a full eight-hour snooze here. So there shouldn't be any nightmares, right? Besides, who has nightmares in the middle of the day? I'll be just fine.

* * *

"Small one, awaken. We have almost arrived at Imladris…" Glorfindel's voice whispered in my ear. Slowly, I blinked awake and stretched, as much as one could stretch on a horse. Looking around, I saw that we were still surrounded by trees. I could not see anything that pointed to an elven city.

"Look down near the bases of the trees on our left. What do you see?" Glorfindel hinted.

There were rocks. Not just any rocks; smooth, big, white, oval rocks. There was on rock beneath one tree and then it skipped five before another rock was placed under the sixth tree. It became a discreet but visible path; one that would be very obvious if you knew what to look for. 'Sweet driveway,' I thought. After a while of following the rocks, the path suddenly disappeared. Concerned, I looked up at Glorfindel to see if he noticed.

He noticed all right and his eyes danced with amusement from my anxious expression. "Look ahead of us," he prompted. Turning around, I saw a break in the trees. Once we passed through said break; that was when I saw it.

Now my grandma had a love for architecture and when we went traveling, I saw many famous buildings designed by renowned architects. I must say that I had developed a taste for it myself after a while. After seeing this, all I can say is 'Alex Jordon, eat your heart out.' Mr. Jordon may have been able to naturally incorporate a rock the size of a thirty-story skyscraper and all the trees on it into a house, but he had _nothing_ on this.

The city looked so… natural. Like…like it was a _part_ of the surrounding area. Like it was…I don't know… normal? Ordinary? However, it was anything _but_ ordinary.

It was beyond imagination, beyond _anything_. I had seen pictures and watched documentaries on breath-taking structures; like Versailles, for instance. Versailles had been a truly magical sight to behold the first time I saw it as well as all the times after that. The feeling of awe never really went away.

_But this city_.

This place looked so fantastical in its own right. It was far more pulchritudinous and had more splendor than Versailles could ever hope to achieve. It was like a dream, like something from _A Never-ending Story_.

This was built by _vastly_ superior beings. A city like this could _never_ be built by humans, not in a million years. It was too light, too fine, and too…ethereal for any human to create. The city seemed to emit its own glow. The luminescent, beautiful, airy buildings had a gentle light that almost seemed to come from the buildings themselves. More than the light or the beauty of this place was the _feeling_ that came from it: peace. A quiet, softness in the air that reminded me of home.

The utter joy and longing it caused me to feel, brought tears to my eyes. I was so…so…happy, elated, anxious, awed, nervous, overwhelmed, nostalgic, melancholy, and filled with a _yearning_, a…a… _wanting_ for something that I don't even _know_ about. No place I have ever been to before had made me feel like this, no word could fully describe my first impression of the place except…

…humbling.

This place was created by beings so above us; above us mere mortals, who could never come even close to making this, not ever.

_Not ever_.

For this was an _elven_ city.

This was _Imladris_.

* * *

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

**Translations: ***Imladris means Rivendell which means, 'deep valley of the cleft.'

*Cerweth means July.

*Hissael is the horse's name, it means 'Wise eyes.'

**Explanations:** *Honor Rae has many nightmares and, on occasion, will suffer from a night terror or two.

'Night terrors usually occur about 2 or 3 hours after a child falls asleep, when sleep transitions from the deepest stage of non-REM sleep to lighter REM sleep, a stage where dreams occur. Usually this transition is a smooth one. But rarely, a child becomes agitated and frightened — and that fear reaction is a night terror.

During a night terror, a child might suddenly sit upright in bed and shout out or scream in distress. The child's breathing and heartbeat might be faster, he or she might sweat, thrash around, and act upset and scared. After a few minutes, or sometimes longer, a child simply calms down and returns to sleep.

Unlike nightmares, which kids often remember, kids won't have any memory of a night terror the next day because they were in deep sleep when it happened — and there are no mental images to recall.' Quoted from Kid's .

*Her dream of the dark place was that of the void, the place where Morgoth was banished to.

*Honor Rae doesn't know that elves can not age, get old, and die the way humans do; she remains ignorant that elves are immortal. All she thinks she knows is that elflings (and possibly older elves) age slower. The levity of that fact will not hit her until later.

*Mancala is a simple board game. the board is made out of two blocks of wood connected by a hinge, in the blocks of wood there are holes in two rows of three, making twelve holes all together. There is also a goal at the very end on each side. There were forty-eight stones, four stones to a hole.

You pick any hole and pick up the stones in that hole, and then you drop a stone in the next hole going in a counter-clock wise direction; being sure to skip your opponent's goal, but not yours. When the last stone your holding drop in a hole that already had at least one stone inside, you pick up all the stones in that hole, including the one you dropped in, and continue going.

You only stop if the last stone lands in either your goal or an empty hole. The objective of the game is to get the most stones, in essence a simple game. In reality, it is a strategy that take time and patience, although it is as fun as a barrel of monkeys. :)

***Fate:** noun

**1.** Something that unavoidably befalls a person; fortune; lot.

**2.** The universal principle or ultimate agency by which the order of things is presumably prescribed; the decreed cause of events; time.

**3.** That which is inevitably predetermined; destiny.

**4. **A prophetic declaration of what must be.

**5.** Death, destruction, or ruin.

*The idea of the rocks comes from the _Hobbit_. The book for sure, I don't know about the movie yet and won't until 7:00 tonight.

*Alex Jordan, random architect that I did some, limited, research on. I found about him in one of my "Children's Discovery" books. (Yes, I have all fourteen in the collection, for I am a nerd.)

*Versailles is a royal château in France. The court of Versailles was the center of political power in France from 1682, when Louis XIV moved from Paris, until the royal family was forced to return to the capital in October 1789 after the beginning of the French Revolution.

*_A Never-ending Story_ is one of my _favorite_ childhood fantasy movies that even best the _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy when I was a child. For when I was around seven, I at least knew its name. I didn't find out the name of the trilogy that I used to watch all the time with my mom in between _Star Trek_ shows when I was a little girl until I was in seventh grade. That was also when I found out that there were books.)

*Yes, Honor Rae's reaction might seem a little over the top, but that is how she reacted to Imladris. Some Fan Fiction characters faint, burst into tears, could care less, or, in the case of some Fan Fictions, they are _so excited _because they_ are actually there_ and they_ cannot wait to flirt with the hot elves_. Honor Rae's reaction is a mild take on the whole "burst into tears scenario." Mostly it is just awe.

**Advertisements:**

**TITLE: **The Unfortunately True Confessions**  
**

**AUTHOR: **hpngtdi**  
**

**ID: **8488673**  
**

**SUMMARY: **Candice Smith is alone in a strange world, armed with nothing but a diary and pen, forced to take on the lack of proper restrooms and tampons. How will she survive? Something of a parody/deconstruction of the typical 'girl falls into ME'. Please RxR. Rated T for a reason.**  
**

**OPINION:** I rather liked it. It distantly reminded me of the 'Georgia Nicolson' series. A Fun read.

**Thought Process: **Whee! I have the privilege of seeing my friend, Mayumi Mizuki, again! It has been a few months since the last I saw her. I am seriously pumped! *Does a short squeal before getting an embarrassed expression* As you can see; I am very, _very_ happy to be able to see my friend once again.

I cannot wait to see the _Hobbit_ it will be nice to see another version of it, but the arrival of this movie will also mean a bunch of airhe- oh, excuse me - _novice writers _will butcher more fabulous canon. Yes, I am all too annoyed with these people.

I want to hear your thoughts!

How was the movie?

Did it do the book justice?

What was your favorite and least favorite parts?

Does Thranduil have swag or what?

_Date Update: Friday, December 14, 2012_


	8. The longest piggy-back ride ever

**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.  
**_**Disclaimer:**__** All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

* * *

___Cerweth the Ninth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

When Gandalf spoke again after my silence, it jerked me from those horrible thoughts. Even so it took me a moment to register that he had asked a question. Plus another moment to realize he wanted to know where I was going. I stuffed my emotions down, not looking up from the grass in front of me I and answered. "Bree, I'm looking for my sister.

"Your sister?" There was both sympathy and curiosity in his voice. I half wanted to snap at him, after all, I most certainly did not want nor need sympathy. However I also felt as if he was someone to trust.

And, so I spoke, "My older sister. We were separated."

"How?" My hand clenched, what a fool I was. Did I really think he wouldn't ask that? Even with knowing that he was being kinder and more helpful than anyone could expect? Yet here I was, wishing he was miles away. Pathetic.

Still, I knew that I should at least respond. "We fell. We fell into a river."

I didn't look up, fearing the look on his face. He spoke again, thankfully there was no trace of pity in his voice. "How long ago?"

Well, that was a less annoying question. I paused considering,"About a month or so."

"Have you been alone since then?" His voice was concerned, yet there was an edge to it. As if he was starting to get angry. Only when I glanced to see his expression, there was no hint of anger, was he even aware of his tone?

More than slightly frightened I answered in what I hoped was a calm voice, "No, I was with Tom until recently."

"Tom?"

"Tom Bombadil."

"Ah." Now his voice was far less...hard, in fact, he sounded almost relived. Odd.

I heard an unidentifiable sound. Daring to look up I saw that the old ma- Gandalf, was digging for something in his satchel. It was silent for a time as he searched before he pulled out a few various items. These included; a pot, a couple of carrots, a potato and a sort of meat, never assume what a meat is. You might end up eating Thumper or Bambi if you assume, there is no 'might' about it.

He set these aside before turning his attention to the little pile of warm ash and semi-hot coals left from the previous night. Wanting to help, I twisted my torso to look for kindling twigs. Finding enough for a handful within reach, I managed to collect them and hand them to the man; who then smiled and used them in reviving his fire. Once that had been done he pulled out a skin of water, dumped that with the food into the pot, and set it on the now growing fire. Turning back to me he suggested, "Since you are going to Bree, perhaps I might accompany you seeing as it is my destination as well."

Surprised, I stared at him considering. That would mean no more running, no more sleeping in fear, and no more being alone. I decided, "That would be nice."

Apparently satisfied he pulled yet another thing from his bag, a...pipe? My guess was confirmed when he held it to the fire to light. The forthcoming scent washed over me; almost familiar and definitely comforting. I glanced at the pot on the fire before returning my gaze to Gandalf. Only, it wasn't Gandalf I saw.

It was my Grandpa.

* * *

_Thick raven hair with silver by the edges. _

_Blue eyes._

_ Sitting and smoking a cigar. _

_The aroma was the same: a musky sweet scent. _

_He was the same as ever. _

_His large, worn hands._

_The wrinkles on his face brought by both the hard years and smiles._

_I could almost hear him calling me by the name only he ever used:_

Laurie.

He called me little Laurie.

I smiled at the memories brought by that name.

_My favorite was the time he taught me how to waltz one night in the living room in their house in Iowa, I had only come up to his waist at that time. _

_Oh, how I missed him; it had been so long since I had seen him..._

Then the facts caught up.

_Grandpa had died years ago. _

_He hadn't had that hair then._

_He hadn't looked so healthy; but frail and thin..._

_And when I last saw him his formerly, comforting, warm hands..._

_...they were cold._

* * *

I blinked.

Gandalf was puffing smoke rings, looking utterly relaxed. His grey hair was long and rough; not short and dark. His face was wrinkled, yes, but not the same. He wasn't thin, nor did he, thankfully, appear at all frail. The scent of the pipe smoke was similar, yet also vastly different. But his eyes. They were just as deep blue, just as old, and then I realized.

They had the same eyes.

* * *

As he smoked his pipe Gandalf considered the child next to him, who appeared to be caught in some sort of day dream. His theory from earlier seemed to be correct, the child was most likely one of the Dúnedain. She certainly had a measure of their skill at survival as well as having their coloring, with dark hair and light eyes.

What had confirmed his guess was her age, sixteen, only she appeared to be about the age of four or five for an average child of human the human race. Only the Dúnedain possessed that quality out of the second born. Even so without taking that little fact into consideration, it was still remarkable that she had made it this far; what with barrow-wights, falling in a river, and just being alone in these woods.

All were in no way safe.

Then there was the intriguing fact of her only knowing Sindarin, not knowing even the language of her people. Stranger still, was that her name was in Sindarin as well. That was only one of the oddities about the child; there was her absent sister and then the fact of her staying with Tom Bombadil of all people... Over all, the child was a puzzle and one Gandalf planned to solve.

But for now he had a watchful eye on the youngling, along with having a, hopefully, good stew on the fire and some excellent pipe-weed.

And maybe, just maybe, this puzzle could be solved before they even reached Bree.

* * *

While the stew wasn't the best it was still good, and surprisingly the meat was good. I had decided against assuming its origins and asked. It was pork. I didn't eat Thumper or Bambi, but instead I ate Babe the pig.

After we ate Gandalf gathered up the pot and bread, which had been pulled out of his pack when the stew was done. We left the clearing soon after, heading to Bree. Since I was unable to walk Gandalf proceded to start the longest piggy-back ride ever. I'm not going to count the number of times I glared at my own ankle... far to much to be sane.

* * *

The forest was truly beautiful, though not in the the cheerful and bright kind of way. It was an old allure, similar to the comfort of the dark, or the wonder when the snow falls and the world is left in white. Moss covered the scattered stones, the roots and trunks of the trees. Branches blocked the sun and sky leaving only light to filter through.

It wasn't like the small grove of trees near my childhood school. There sunlight filtered through the leaves, giving it a warm honey light. I had met a friend for the first time there, in that light. It was one of my best memories. Either way, this was no childhood sanctuary, but a place almost alive with age. A place where one did not need to always smile or hold any type of mask. After all, what do the old care for masks?

Some may have considered such a place 'gloomy' or some such thing. But, one need not always be happy, just as one should not be perpetually sad. Rest and reflection, like the peace of a cloudy day, for example are also good to have. And for the serenity and comfort that comes with being around anything so old, well, I was thankful.

* * *

We had stopped for the night under a particularly moss covered tree; it was dusk.

As Gandalf began to gather dead wood and such for a fire. I again collected what could be found within reach. After that was completed, we both sat close to the small flame; standing in bright contrast with the shadows of the forest. We had built it relatively close to the tree, so much so that I was able to curl up against the trunk. Dinner was a few berries and more stew. This time is was poor Thumper instead of Babe.

After we ate Gandalf suggested that I sleep, a thought I quite agreed with. Thankfully, I didn't dream. That fact, however, also didn't mean I slept well. What woke me up I don't know, probably some sort of critter in the area, but either way I ended up awake. Looking around I sat up. The fire had long since died, now only dull glowing coals and ash remained. The sky was still black, peppered with stars, at least what I could see through the tree's branches.

I longed to climb them, to sit among them and watch the stars, to lean against the tree and know that I was invisible from below and utterly open to those nearly glowing stars. Still wanting at least part of that feeling I again curled up to the tree's trunk. As I leaned against the moss covered bark an old tune came to mind. At first I merely hummed it, then softly I sang.

"High they reach  
Going ever deep  
Roots of life  
Boughs of green

Friends, old friends  
Reminding me  
Of history

High they reach  
Going ever deep  
Roots of life  
Boughs of green

Words of the wise  
Learnt long ago  
Please tell me

High they reach  
Going ever deep  
Boughs of years  
Roots of home."

It was something I had heard one Solstice night at a small gathering of friends, it had been a poem then, but later it was set to a soft tune. Even after I had sung the whole of it I continued humming for a bit before a wide yawn snuck up, still I didn't fall asleep for a while. When I finally did, it was curled against the tree.

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

**Translations: *** Cerweth is July.

*Dunedain are the Ranger, like Aragorn for example.

**Explanations: *** It is said that Dunedain live three times longer than normal men; that would translate into 240 to 250 years of an average lifespan of about eighty years. That being said, both Honor Rae and Solreen [Laura] are very small for their age, looking to be at least a year and a half younger than they actually are in appearance.

*Babe the pig is reference to the movies that I watched when I was a child: _Babe_ and _Babe: Pig in the City_. For the people who had never watched those, try _Charlotte's Web_ instead.

*Appalaud our ever talented Mayumi Mizuki for her original poem/ballad that she wrote herself!

**Thought Process: **It's the end of the world today. It is rather beautiful out for an apocalypse, don't you think? It wasn't how I thought it was suppose to be; there is an over-whelming lack of darkness and singing angels... It's like 2000 all over again.

Happy End of the World as We Know it.

I will update on Christmas Eve.

_Date Updated: Friday, December 21, 2012._


	9. Glorfindels Giant Wardrobe out of Narnia

****Important Announcement! Check Thought Process section!

* * *

**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.  
**_**Disclaimer:**__** All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

* * *

_Cerweth the second of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

"The child is of elven kind." When Elrond first heard that, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. His first thought was that Glorfindel had made a dreadful mistake. However, Glorfindel would not make a claim like this so lightly and he spoke as if he was thoroughly convinced that he had found an elfling. But at the same time, it was impossible; so it had to be a mistake. It was a problem, but thankfully there was an easy way to verify his friend's claim.

"Where is this child that was alone in the woods?" Elrond asked, wanting to see this 'elfling' for himself.

"At my home in the guest room," Glorfindel frowned. "He is usually very reticent and shy. It would be best to introduce you to him in the morning."

"I see." Yes, it would be best to continue this in the morning. For once he had slept on it, he would be more than ready to question the supposed elfling and, in some cases, the elf-lord on the subject more. For it was far too early to question a child now (past two in the morning, in fact), and sleep would do them all some good. It was only for one more day after all; less than a day in fact. After all, what was a few hours in the face of over a millennia and a half? Barely the blink of an eye.

Elrond would wait, for he could be a very patient elf. But the Valar help Glorfindel, if Elrond had found out that this was merely a hoax; for he would show _no_ mercy. After all, what was a bit of a year's worth of paperwork between friends?

* * *

_Cerweth the first of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

Glorfindel had left some time ago and I didn't really know what to do with myself afterwards. I had eaten, bathed, been given a clean tunic of Glorfindel's to wear as pajamas, brushed my teeth with a weird pasty toothpaste, and had been shown where my room was. I didn't feel like going to sleep yet and decided to wander around the apartment-like house. Glorfindel's house was actually a part of a building called the last homely house. We didn't meet anyone in the halls because everyone was mostly in the dining hall.

When you came through the door, you entered into a room that served as the main/common/entrance/living/study room. There was a small closet to you right where you stored cloaks and boots. At the back of the room was a small hallway with two doors on the left and another two doors on the right. The two doors on the right were the closet and bathroom. The two doors on the left were the guest and master bedroom. The whole place was nice, simple, and comfortable for two people.

I knew I probably shouldn't have, but I opened the door to Glorfindel's room and went in. His room, much like mine, was simple, clean, and didn't have much in the way of decorations. Except for a few whittled knick-knacks here and there and some paintings; his room was mostly bare. His bed was neatly made, his desk was clear of any papers; his bookshelf contained some well cared for books and bric-a-bracs, and his wardrobe was…well…big…

It looked like wardrobe that led to Narnia and I was suddenly filled the inane urge to climb inside. I had the insane idea that if I climbed through _this exact_ wardrobe; I would end up in some old man's castle in England. My inner child wanted to see if it would actually leave this messed up Narnia if it went into Glorfindel's wardrobe…I sound crazier with each passing second; but the impulse to do it was so strong, that it overrode any rational thoughts.

I, of course, regretted it one second later. Glaring down at me were two of the ugly creatures that I saw the Hunt fighting earlier. Fear clouded my mind, the only thoughts I had running through my head was-

_Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run._

_**RUN.**_

My legs refused to move, they were too busy pretending to be jello. _They_ made as if to move and the movement snapped me out of whatever trance I was in. Slamming the wardrobe door on them, I took several steps away from the wardrobe before racing for the hallway. The wardrobe door open behind and I heard them running after me.

I didn't even make it to the living room.

* * *

Elladan and Elrohir had waited in that stuffy wardrobe for a _long_ time. Ever since they caught sight of Cael who brought news of the hunt, they knew that Glorfindel wouldn't be far behind. They put their plan in action.

Glorfindel had royally whooped them both in a fight at the _same time_. They wouldn't take that lying down and would get revenge in mischievous twin fashion of course. It had taken them ages to make the masks just right for this jest. Actually, they had taken a leaf from Ecthelion's book in this one. They had heard about his idea from when a drunken Glorfindel and Elrond went over the 'good old times' when their sister Arwen was born. Glorfindel wouldn't expect to be tricked this joke again.

It was so simple to pick the lock into Glorfindel's home and re-lock it behind them. They had fit into the wardrobe with some difficulty and it wasn't until Glorfindel came home, did they realize that Glorfindel had a change of clean clothes in the bathroom at all times. Most likely he wouldn't have any reason to open the wardrobe. Just as they were cursing themselves for their negligence, they heard footsteps walking in their (hidden) direction. Maybe, this practical joke wasn't a bust after all?

What they didn't expect was a small child opening the door instead of the big elf-lord they were expecting. It took a lot to startle an elf, especially the twins. However, the unexpected appearance of a child certainly shocked them. And of course they did a too good of a job on their masks, to the misfortune of this particular child. The three simply stared at each other in mutual shock, before the twins snapped out of it first. The child appeared to be petrified in fear, this was not good.

When they had made the slightest movement; the child slammed the door in their face and fled. Quickly, the twins pushed open the door to see the child a few feet away from the bedroom door. Having the advantage of having longer strides, it didn't that very long to catch up with the little one. Elladan raced ahead of the child and cut off its exit.

The child, still in a sprint, couldn't stop soon enough and ran straight into his open arms. Elladan immediately encircled his arms around the struggling child. Elrohir without further ado ripped off both his and Elladan's mask off.

Elladan had kneeled down to the child's level and hugged it tightly to himself, while Elrohir crouched behind the child and stroked its short hair. The child wept harder, grabbing fistfuls of Elladan's tunic. "We are sorry that this has happened to you," the twins apologized. "We had meant to surprise a friend of ours."

"As you can see, neither of us are orcs." Elrohir continued.

"Please forgive us for scaring you so." Elladan pleaded softly. The child cried for a few more minutes before slowly calming down and falling silent.

"We truly are sorry." They said in unison earnestly. Giving a feeble smile, the child nodded before quickly looking at the floor and hastily wiping all traces of its tears away. They quickly studied the child and deduced it was a boy. He had short, blonde hair and dark, blue eyes. They noticed how the child looked awkward and uncomfortable around them.

Not that the twins could blame him, they _did_ give him quite a scare.

Elladan, with his quick thinking, tried to defuse the unpleasant situation around them. "My name is Elladan."

Elrohir quickly caught on and continued, "My name is Elrohir."

Together they said, "Well met." The child slowly met their eyes and gave another nervous smile that looked more like a grimace. He looked down at his feet before glancing up at them again. The child opened his mouth as if to say something, but changed his mind and looked back down at his toes.

Finally after a short silence, there was a soft, "Well met…"

* * *

I had said I had forgiven them, but it was an easier than to say than to do. I did forgive them after a while; because I understood that it was, in fact, an accident. However, just because I forgave them, it didn't mean that I trusted them. Of course, my inner-child liked them almost immediately after "talking" with them for a bit. I tried to squish that feeling down as much as I could.

I didn't know these people and I wouldn't let my inner-child cloud my judgment…although it had gotten progressively harder to do, the longer I spent time with them.

They had explained what they had been doing exactly in Glorfindel's wardrobe and why they were doing it in the first place. At my dubious expression, they confessed that they tended to do things like this a lot. They had, in a way, reminded me of Glorfindel's friend, Ecthelion. They also reminded me of Laura, in their own crazy way. Laura was a fan of practical jokes; even though she seemed like a stiff sometimes, she had a wicked sense of humor.

It was getting late into the night and I had to admit; even though I didn't trust them as far as I could throw them, I was grow fond of the twins. After trying and failing to stifle a yawn and then try to discreetly hide it behind a hand, the twins declared that they would have to retire soon. They bid me a kind farewell and goodnight before leaving. In the silence of the room, the place seemed kind of empty.

I didn't like it.

Where was Glorfindel? He was kind of vague when he said that he'd come back, for he never actually said _when_ he would come back. I would wait for him; he couldn't be gone for much longer now could he? I looked around the room once more and then spotted the twins' masks.

Should I leave them there? If I did, the twins would probably get in trouble. If I removed them, had hid them, or better yet, destroyed them; the twins would be off the hook and (this was my manipulative side speaking here) they would own me one. I could blackmail them if and when I wanted to.

…I felt disgusted with myself.

I would get rid of the evidence because it was the right thing to do. Well, maybe not the _right_ thing to do, but it was the _nice_ thing to do. I got up from the couch I had been occupying, picked up the masks… and didn't know what to do with them…

After panicking over where I could possibly hide them; I decided the best place they could be was under my bed. I stuffed them as far as they could go under the dark confides of my bed, before moving on to the next thing; fixing Glorfindel's wardrobe. It wasn't exactly _broken_ per se, it just need to look like it hadn't been disturbed since Glorfindel last used it… I straightened the clothes in there as best as I could before gently closing the wardrobe and then his bedroom door. There, I was done.

Now what?

Glorfindel still wasn't home yet and it was getting rather late… I glanced at the bookshelf and then at the door; waiting a few minutes to see if Glorfindel would enter if I stared at the door long enough.

He didn't.

Giving a speculative glance at the bookshelf once again, I inched towards it. None of the books have any titles; either that or they had long faded out of the cover. Reaching on my tippy-toes, I barely managed to reach the book on the longest shelf. I bounced back to the couch, excited to see what type of genre Glorfindel liked to read. Energized, I quickly (but delicately) opened the book and…

…was thoroughly disappointed.

I couldn't understand one smidge of the printed work in the book and the worst part was, there weren't any pictures. Usually, that would be just fine with me, but if I was trying to read foreign languages in books, some pictures would be nice to help me understand what the flip was going on in there. It could have been some erotic fantasy romance or something and I wouldn't have known the difference. Not that I thought that was the type of books Glorfindel read, but you never know…

Well, whatever Glorfindel preferred to read, it was heavy reading material. It was a _very_ thick book, around the thickness of a _Bible_, but bigger. Maybe it was his diary… I snorted at the thought of Glorfindel writing in a hot pink diary with a sparkly, unicorn pen.

Hilarious.

I put the book back and returned to my spot on the couch. I had managed to remain focused for a bit, but I kind of daydreamed and (unbeknownst to myself at the time) I fell into an elvish reverie. That reverie later turned into me dozing, which turned into me having a light sleep, and that turning into me fall completely asleep. I had managed to accomplish what I always wanted to try to do before: sleep with my eyes open.

* * *

_Cerweth the second of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

Glorfindel was exhausted, Elrond could be a slave driver sometimes, but Glorfindel wasn't too mad. Glorfindel had fed him a particularly hard piece of information to believe. He couldn't wait to fall into bed and _sleep_. When he opened the door to his home, he was pleasantly surprised that the elfling had tried to stay up until he had returned. Quietly laughing to himself, Glorfindel moved to pick the child up.

Sudden the child's eyes unglazed and he looked at Glorfindel, not fully aware. When he processed who was in front of him, he gave a slow smile and sighed, "Welcome back…"Then, his eyes lowered to half-mast and glazed over. The child was once again dead to the world.

Glorfindel laughed again at the child's attics before sweeping said child into his arms and placing him in bed. Then, following the elfling's example, Glorfindel himself went to his own room and went to bed.

* * *

When I woke up, I thought everything that happen in the past seventeen days, was all a dream. When I open my eyes, the ceiling looked exactly like mine; white and smooth. I thought to myself, 'What a weird dream I had. It was so bizarre, but I don't think I should tell anyone about it… No, I will not.' However, when I slipped out of bed; the fragile conviction that I held about it being all dream, vanished.

I had carpeted floors, not wooden.

I slapped my hand to my face at my stupidity. 'If it wasn't all a dream the last twenty-something times, what made you think it was a dream now?' My cynical side spoke up. I simply stuffed it in the metaphorical closet with my manipulative side and locked them both in it. I tossed the key and hoped that none of my other uglier emotions let them back out.

I stuck my head out of the bedroom door, peeked my head into the hallway, and look into the living room from where I was hiding. It was empty and I padded over to the bathroom and went in there. When I came out, I noticed everything was still deserted. I knew for a fact that Glorfindel had returned, because I had awakened in a bed instead of the couch.

He must still be sleeping, not that I blame him. I still had the habit of early to bed and early to rise. Of course just because I went to bed early, it didn't mean I fell asleep early; although I did get up early a lot…

It was too soon for me to feel hungry yet; so I was simply in the wee stages of being fully awake. I also wanted to explore a bit, so I thought to leave a note. In spite of this nice sentiment; I realized that since I couldn't understand any of the writing in Glorfindel's books, he might not understand my note. Which would defeat the purpose of writing said note…

Frustrated with this new development, I decided to compromise; I wouldn't wander off too far, I would just check the hallway. I couldn't get lost in a two directional hallway, could I?

Not likely; I knew my sense of direction was bad, but not _that_ bad. I would be just fine. Satisfied with my decision; I bravely opened the door and stepped outside it barefoot. The door shut behind me and I realized that although the boots were too big for me now, it would probably be better if I wore them. I might step on something sharp. I tried to open the door, but to no avail.

Something happened that I wasn't counting on, it was locked. Well, no use crying over split milk. I might as well explore; when I'm done, I'll sit outside the door and wait for Glorfindel to come out (most likely looking for me).

I just had to be careful and make sure not to step on anything sharp. I looked to the left and right, the hallway seemed to go on endlessly in both directions… Well, when you come to a fork in the road…

Ene mene miste  
Es rappelt in der Kiste  
Ene mene meck  
Und du bist weg…

Right it was.

There wasn't anything really interesting in this direction, just a lot of rooms. I came to an intersection on my right and I stared down it curiously. My eyes immediately caught a hold of a glorious picture. Enthralled, I trotted over to it. It was a painted picture that showed an elf walking through a forest that had fireflies that lit up the path it was on. Looking up from that picture I noticed that there were several more paintings. Thrilled, I looked at each one and when I came to another intersection (this time on the left), I saw some flowers.

Not just _any_ flowers mind you; nope, these were morning glories. I raced to the end of that hall to smell them and stroked their petals. Morning glory seeds, specifically the blue ones, were nigh impossible to find in gardening centers. I didn't make the connection until later, but I had known from a book I read that morning glory seeds can have the effect of LSD when ingested.

Most teenagers that hold this little known fact would take the seeds and brew it in a tea, ruining the seeds and the chance to plants them for other people. I never would eat or drink any seeds willingly; I preferred their flowers to their seeds. I wasn't looking for an easy way to get a high like some people; I didn't _want_ to _ruin_ my _life_,thank you very much.

I started whispering complements to the flowers and talking about how well they were cared for. No, I didn't have a few screws loose; I just read in a study that talking to your plants helps them grow. It didn't matter whether they were nice or mean things. The only thing that was actually having any effect of them was the amount of carbon dioxide they were getting. Like we breathe in oxygen (and other trace elements), plants breathe in carbon dioxide, and instead of giving of carbon dioxide like we do, they give off oxygen. Thus the cycle benefits both parties!

Eager to find more plants, I went back to another inter section I had just passed (this one having hallways on the left _and_ the right). I chose the hallway on the left because on one side there was a large entry way and a staircase on the other; lots of things to look at. I stepped out into the outsized greeting room. Lots of light was let in by the many tall windows that were in the room.

I was in luck; on one end of the room, opposite of the staircase, there was a pot that was full of chicory. One of my grandma's favorite flowers; the plant with soft, blue petals was actually a type of herb. In Canada, England, Australia, New Zealand and other places its pale, slightly bitter leaves were used in salads. Its root when dried, roasted, grounded could be used as a coffee substitute. Chicory has also been known to help settle upset stomachs too.

Being so completely engrossed with the plant, I was startled when a hand rested itself on my shoulder.

* * *

Elrond had been planning to walk over to Glorfindel's room and meet the "elfling" there along with his seneschal. What he didn't expect to see was the child studying the chicory plant so intensely across from the stairs Elrond was descending. He didn't expect the child to be so small. It had been ages since he saw anything that little that wasn't a dwarf or (on rarely occasions when Elrond was with Gandalf) a hobbit.

It was well known how a child can tug on the heartstrings of an elf, but added to the fact that this one had been found in the wilderness all by itself, it was easy to see that the child had brought out Elrond's compassionate side.

Elrond had reached the foot of the stairs and studied the child in front of him. The child had short, blonde hair and fair skin. He appeared to be wearing someone's borrowed brown tunic and no shoes. The child bent down and started whispering into the plant. Elrond heard him saying something along the lines of, "Look how well you have bloomed. The blue on your petals are such a nice vibrant shade. Grandma would have loved to have you in her gardens. Just like the morning glories, you have been well cared for. It is nice to see that there is no favoritism and all the flowers are being treated fairly…"

Elrond had walked up next to the child and put his hand on the child's shoulder. The chance of a human child this age knowing this much sindarian and being able to speak it so well was very slim. The child flinched away from Elrond's touch and immediately stopped talking. The child's blue eyes stared at Elrond and once he realized that Elrond was a stranger, the child averted his face away from him and gazed at the floor. Elrond felt slightly hurt at this gesture, but did not take is personally, for he had been warned that the lad was very introverted.

The child bit his lip and nervously curled and uncurled his toes, looking very much like a child waiting to be 'hauled over the coals' so to speak. Elrond said gently, "These are very pretty flowers are they not?"

The child's eyes snapped up to look at Elrond quickly, before looking at the flowers, and back to the ground. The lad nodded and uttered an almost inaudible, "Yes."

"Are you lost?" Elrond couldn't see Glorfindel anywhere and his friend was probably frantic looking for the child. Said child shook his head, paused, and then timidly nodded his head. "Then it would be best to find our friend Glorfindel now wouldn't it?" The child looked at Elrond again, only this time studying him more thoroughly and committing his appearance to memory.

Elrond smiled, in a way this child reminded him of a young Erestor; the only difference being that Erestor just had a reserved sort of personality while this one seemed very wary. 'Very curious indeed.'

* * *

Glorfindel should've known this would happen. He wasn't worried that a certain elf-child would get hurt; no, there was no fear of that. Glorfindel was just worried that the boy would get hopelessly lost while not knowing anyone at all, because chances were that he wouldn't run into any of the other elves from the hunt. Being how tentative he was, he would get scared if he was alone for too long while he was in a strange place.

Imagine Glorfindel's surprise however, when he opened up the door to see Elrond walking in his direction with the elfling not too far behind.

Glorfindel's lips twitched in amusement, when his charge caught sight of him and trotted over as quickly as possible without seeming rude. "Did you have fun?" He felt rather than saw the nod he was given. "That is good and it appears you have met my friend I told you about."

Elrond raised an eyebrow, "Good things I hope."

"Of course," Glorfindel grinned before looking at the elfling currently hiding behind his legs. "Why don't we talk inside?"

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

**Translations: ***Cerweth means July.

*Ene mene miste  
Es rappelt in der Kiste  
Ene mene meck  
Und du bist weg.

Translates from German to:

Ene Mene miste  
It rattles in crate  
Ene Mene Meck  
And you are away.

**Explanations: ***You probably notice I start on the second of July, go to the first of July, and then go back to the second. This is because when it is in Elrond's and Glorfindel's point of view it is past midnight. However, when it is in Honor Rae's point of view, it is not quite midnight yet.

*Technically, Glorfindel's "house" is actually a room, much like an apartment. Honor Rae compares it to a house because it is the size of the homes for some people.

*Bric-a-bracs are the same thing as knick-knacks.

*Fun fact: did you know that Tolkien collaborated a lot with C.S. Lewis and that they were very good friends? Knowing this I could not help but have Honor Rae try to leave "Narnia" via Glorfindel's Giant Wardrobe. Expect to see a lot of GGW and EGW (Elrond's Giant Wardrobe) later on.

*The twins had help with the masks, obviously. Although, I don't know who would be stup- er - _naive _enough to help them when there is a distinct possibility that they could find themselves on the wrong end of a bow loaded with an arrow (not that the victim would actually fire it, they would just intimidate the living daylights out the elf).

*They also could _not_ have come with that good of a prank by themselves. No offense to them, of course, it is just that Ecthelion was _The_ Master at stuff like that. They just can't _touch _genius like that. Although, once they get older have more experience, maybe.

*As for Laura's wicker sense of humor and Honor Rae's manipulative side, I can only say this: it's always the quiet ones.

*The Valar only exchanged their English speech and their Elvish speech. They can only write in English and whatever other language they know how to write in. They will have to re-learn how to read and write.

*I can just picture Glorfindel doing that too; oh, the things I imagine when I have way too much time on my hands... :)

*Honor Rae until that moment had been sleeping with her eyes closed. Elves _can_ do that, but usually only when they are the following: exhausted, sick, or dead. I am tweaking that a little bit. When they are young, like babies and very small elflings, they will sleep with their eyes closed or very close to it. As they get older they will learn how to sleep like most elves do, whenever they are ready to, one day in their childhood.

*Eeny, meeny, miney, moe- We have all done it at some point, admit it. This is a German version I have found. As you probably guessed, our dear Honor Rae speaks some German.

*Yes, Morning Glories do have those attributes. I _know _that your readers are _responsible_ and would _never_ do that. If you are interested in more strange fact about plants look it up in "The Weed That Killed Lincoln's Mother & Other Botanical Atrocities." A rather charming book, I hope you will find.

*Credit to the MythBusters for this idea of the cycle between plants and humans.

*Credit to the Microsoft research tool for the facts on Chicory. It's a lovely plant you can find on highway ditches in the country. Ditches that are not filled with trash. Stop littering people.

**Thought Process:** Hello, everyone. Surprise, surprise, we are all alive. Since we survived the End of the World as We Know It, I have decided to update. Of course, it being Christmas gave me a little extra incentive. The next update will probably be on New Year's day. I don't know, maybe, maybe not.

I have a Contest going on. Review or P.M. a suggestion for a Holiday chapter extra with the characters that have been mention so far. If it is a really good idea, the next chapter will be a holiday one-shot for all of you. Plus there will be honorary mentions.

Dead-line is Monday, December 31, 2012.

Happy Christmas and a Merry New Year, Mayumi Mizuki and Neoko-chan.

_Date Submitted: Christmas Eve, Monday, December 24, 2012._


	10. Introducing: THE GANDALF-CAT!

_**HELP WANTED!** **Check Thought Process section.**_

* * *

**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter. **

_**Disclaimer:**__** All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

* * *

_Cerweth the Nineteenth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

Bree was a small dark crown on the crest of a large sloping hill, the buildings' sharp roofs were the points of said crown. The wind was strong enough, as it swept over the land, to toss Gandalf's beard, hair, robes, and scarf about. Thankful for my hair being tied back, I was left to wonder how his hat could have possibly stayed on...

The land was comprised of rolling hills surrounding the road with farms and trees dotted here and there. Mostly though, it was an empty place. As we approached the town, I realized that it was surrounded by a wall. Somehow the thought occurred to me that perhaps the people might not exactly welcoming and/or happy to see us.

After all how likely was it that the slightly ominous wall was just to keep the chickens in?

When we first passed through the dark wooden gates the townsfolk were curious but not overly welcoming. Mostly they gave a scrutinizing look or two before returning to their business. That only lasted until Gandalf started speaking to a number of people with all of the conversations including the word 'Dunedain.'

The pattern was pretty simple, Gandalf would be speaking with the person, the word 'Dunedain' would be used, and the other would tense up. Most of them made what was obviously an excuse and quickly left.

What really stuck me as odd, was when I had seen a lady with a cat on her lap sitting nearby. I went over and held out my hand to the little critter, while looking for permission from the woman. She stared at me a hard glint in her eyes. Confused and a bit frightened by the harshness that she had looked at me with, I quickly returned to Gandalf and covertly griped a portion of his robes.

My Old Man would never look at me like that. Ever.

...Where had that come from? The fudge?

Of course he had by far proved himself to be at least somewhat trustworthy, but to mentally refer to Gandalf as mine? Why was I being so childish? Running to him, clutching at his clothes like a two-year-old...

I was fifteen for the Lady's sake! No matter what fanciful delusions my mind supplied he wasn't my Grandpa, even if his name did start with a 'G' and they had the same eyes...

_...Even if I wished he was..._

* * *

The folk of Bree were always known as a rather wary lot, yes, and it should have occurred to him that they might react thusly...

But one should at least try, no?

Gandalf sighed, as he sunk a tad further into the wooden chair of the tavern. At least as far as one _could_ sink into a wooden chair. He closed his eyes briefly, hoping to calm the pounding in his head. Opening them, he pondered the child curled in the bed of the room they had acquired.

She had healed remarkably well as they had traveled. It had taken a mere week before she was back on her feet. He had been surprised when she had remained focused on traveling. She had not paused to do any of the other things a usual child might.

For example, not chasing a butterfly that had gone right in front of her. It flew practically under her very nose! Instead, she merely continued walking along while gazing after the small creature. It was odd to say the least.

She had told him of her sister, how they were separated, where she had stayed afterwards, and where she was attempting to go. Yet, there was no mention of her parents, nor of any other family but this sister... Had she been raised by her sibling?

Perhaps.

The youngling turned in her sleep and he could now see that a good part of the blanket was bunched up in her arms. She clutched the cloth as if it were a much loved doll.

Inspiration struck.

* * *

_Cerweth the Twentieth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

I woke to a rather nice bed and a bit of sunlight filtered through the window of the inn room. Blinking, I sat up and in doing so I discovered the oddest thing...

A doll.

A cloth doll dressed in a basic dress of brown and a belt of what looked like twine. It had been tucked under the blankets near the pillow at some point during the night. Just then, before I could contemplate the new arrival, Gandalf entered the room, a serious expression on his face, "Solreen, now that we've reached Bree, what are your plans?"

Well, dang, he certainly got straight to the point. As far as plans? I had originally planned to ask after Honor here. That or try and follow the river. But as we (Gandalf and I) traveled, I had realized that the odds of success in that situation would be nearly impossible, as in I would have more of a chance of seeing a Flying Purple People Eater type of impossible. To top it all off, now I could not even communicate with anyone but Gandalf... I was a fool to ever think that might work and here I was now.

"I... I don't know. I was going to ask after my sister, but I can't even _talk _to the people here..." As I said this I got the oddest impression of Gandalf looking like a cat that just ate the canary.

..._How would a Gandalf-cat avoid getting all those feathers stuck in that beard?_

"I would like to help you find your sister." He was going to help? Why? Sure he had come to Bree as well, but still... Why did he actually want to help an utterly random person go wandering around and look for another equally random person? Either he was a saint or had at least a tiny bit of some other motive. And with his expression turn more like a cat that got the cream _right after_ it ate the canary, the latter was looking more and more likely...

"Why?" I asked, trying to discern just what exactly he wanted.

"Because, I happen to know some Dunedain and to them children are important." Because he knows people like me? Then... this is for them? I guess that is the other motive. I never would have guessed that he was the three-option: A manipulative saint... Sheesh.

"Oh, what is your plan?"

"I was thinking that since those I know who could help usually frequent here, it might be better to wait for them here for a few days. Then if they do not arrive, we could try heading towards another place they and those like them are regularly at."

Wait in town for a bit? It sounded reasonable, except that the longer we waited the longer Honor could be in danger and I could have been there to help.

Wait, scratch that.

I would not be much help anyway. I could just see myself with a stick against some sort of rabid creature, a fat lot of good I would be. "That sounds like a good idea." Because truth be told, Gandalf has a bigger stick than I do, which is to say I don't have one and a doll would not be much good anyway.

"Do you want to go down for breakfast?" That popped any immediate all the dark thoughts that were filling my head like hot air in a giant balloon. As per my usual thought process in similar cases: 'Food? Did someone just say food?' This excitement was evidenced by the slight growl of my stomach. Nodding, I eagerly got out of bed and followed him down the stairs. My thoughts focused on thanking the Stars that Gandalf didn't comment on my- well, I would not say _obsession_, but something similar to it-_ love_ of food.

The inn was by no means a grand place, yet it had the feel of comfort and rest. Overall, a very down-to-earth type of place. Naturally, I loved it. The wood was dark and sturdy, while the floors were smooth from all the feet that must have walked on it over the years. When we reached the main area there were only a few people there, seeing as by then it was late morning.

The room was large; it had long wooden tables and benches taking up most of the space with a bar on one end. A pair of men sat at one table on the other side of the room, they had. There was what looked like either a child or a very short man at another table that was closer to our side of the room. He had curly blond hair and upon closer inspection...no shoes?

_How_ _odd_...

Gandalf approached the bar-like structure and spoke to the man behind it before sitting down at one of the tables. Curious, I watched the strange person from behind my doll's hair as I pretended to 'play' with her. He was alone, did that mean he was an adult? I would just have to watch and find out. Before long a rather tall boy set two bowls of what looked like... chicken soup!

Even as a very young child I was a fan of this stuff, especially chicken noodle soup. My family had a chicken dumpling recipe dating back to my great-grandmother. That was how crazy we were for chicken soup. Said recipe is also now ingrained into my head, and for that I am quite thankful...

Anyway, disregarding my rant on the wonders of chicken soup, suffice to say that anything else at the particular moment, well, it went out the proverbial window.

That included thoughts of strange short adults.

* * *

When Gandalf opened the door to the room he found Solreen awake. The child was sitting up in the aforementioned bed and he had briefly wondered if she had discovered his gift...

Their conversation had gone as expected until the youngling asked why he was helping her. That had baffled him, was she unused to simple kindness and how adults looked out for children?

A chilling thought.

Either way he explained that he was looking for others like her and that his own plan had been to wait. Then if no one came they would move on to another location. He didn't mention that this other place would be Rivendell, or in the tongue she knew, Imladris.

When they had gone down to the main dining area, he had pointed out a table for the girl to sit at and headed over to the bar to order a breakfast of the previous nights leftovers. Sitting down next to Solreen, he noticed that she was attempting to covertly watch a hobbit that happened to be eating at a table nearby. Apparently, she thought that her new doll's hair was decent camouflage.

This rather amusing behavior continued until the food was brought out by a rather fair lad who looked to be around eight-years old. The youngster carried two bowls on a wide round board. When these were set on the table the boy scampered back behind the bar. Turning back to his charge, Gandalf was even more amused to see her with a large smile as she soaked the provided bread with the broth and began to eat as if the food was the best she'd ever had. It appeared that chicken soup was a favorite... And as the scent of said soup was quite good he decided that perhaps he had better eat as well.

* * *

After the utterly delicious food was gone, I noticed that the strange adult-child was still at the other table. Still curious, I gave in and asked Gandalf why he... well, why the other person looked so different, if rather nice.

"He, Solreen, is a hobbit. Their land is rather near here, on the other side of the Old forest as well as down the road, in fact." A hobbit? Huh.

* * *

Since we were going to be stationary for a few days, and since I somehow doubted there were any good books around, I decided to explore. I doubted that they would let me into the kitchen, and the same would most likely go for a lot of the other areas as well, that left finding the stables. Said stables were relatively easy to find. They had half a dozen stalls and a hay loft on one side. The only occupant was an old grey mare on one end. I had tried to jump to see over the wooden stall gate. However, as many other times before this, I was far too much short, to my chagrin.

After my third attempt, someone spoke from behind me. Turning, I saw the boy that had brought the soup out earlier. He had light brown hair and blue eyes that somehow reminded me of the look of a cat; curious and playful. I could not understand what he had said, but I could tell he was being friendly; unlike the lady and her cat from before.

It took him a bit to realize that I could not understand him. When he did, he, for some unfathomable reason, smiled at me. He opened the stall door and motioned for me to follow him inside the stall. When we were directly in front of the mare, he pointed to said mare, "Eba." Apparently that was her name.

He then pointed to himself, "Aled."

Grinning, I followed suit, glad to make a new friend, "Solreen." He grinned back and turned towards Eba, holding out a hand for her to sniff at; she nuzzled his hand looking for treats. Giggling, - giggling? Since when did I giggle? Oh well, I suppose that since I _look_ like a little kid I can _act_ like one once in awhile - I petted her velvety nose. She was certainly an old horse, but she was quite gentle and calm. She most definitely enjoyed the attention... And as I looked over at Aled, I realized that I enjoyed having a new friend.

* * *

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

**Translations: ***Cerweth is July.

*Solreen means "Memory-Shackles."

_Further translations are in the explanations section._

**Explanations: *** Bonus points to any one of you who know the song. "...It looks like an purple people-eater to me..."

* A person with the look of the cat that ate the canary is a person who appears and behaves guiltily mixed with other qualities, such as satisfaction or feigned nonchalance.

*A person with the look of the cat that got the cream is a person who looks very pleased and excessively smug with themselves.

*It was Tolkien who created the beings called hobbits. They essentially didn't exist before he can along. So obviously if they [Honor Rae and Laura] have never watched or heard of the _Lord of the Rings_, then they would have never heard of hobbits before.

_And now a word from our Mayumi Mizuki:_

"Since Tolkien never went into great detail for Westron and even less concerning 'Hobbit-speech', that leaves us having to find names else where. Thus here are the origins and meanings of some names:

Aled, Welsh in origin and meaning 'offspring.'

Eba, short for Ebahe, a variant of a variant spelling of Eabah. Irish in origin with the meaning of 'life.' It is intended as a hobbitish type name."

_This has been a word from our Mayumi Mizuki._

**Advertisements:**

**TITLE: **Roel

**AUTHOR: **Mayumi Mizuki

**ID: **8470649

**SUMMARY:** A companion collection to Ring of Endless Light, a collaboration posted by my co-author neoko-chan, side stories and such. Requests taken.

**OPINION: **Rather nice. It's a refreshing thing to read in between our chapters to see what is happening back at Honor Rae and Laura's home as well as some flash-backs and one-shots. Beautifully done and simple.

**Thought Process: **We need your help! Yes, it turns out our plot line only extends into part-way through the next arc and only so far as chapter thirty.

PLEASE SEND IN YOUR IDEAS!

What do you want Honor Rae and Laura to do?

What do you want to happen to them?

Good things?

Bad things?

YOU DECIDE!

Please keep it G to PG-13. Remember: They ARE children at this point.

Thank you in advance and Merry New Year's day.

...

Oh! Before I forget, in response to a reviewer, "Yes, there will be Celebrian. She has 507 years before she, unfortunately, is supposed to be assaulted by the orcs in cannon. 507 years is a long time... it might happen, it might not, but remember: We ARE trying to keep this as CANNON AS POSSIBLE!"

Have a nice 2013.

_Date Submitted: Tuesday, January 1, 2013._


	11. Who kidnapped all the old-people?

**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.**

_**Disclaimer:**__** All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

* * *

_Cerweth the second of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

I should've known that I wouldn't have gotten out of this so to speak. My only blessing was that I wasn't being stared down by some creepy old man with beady eyes. Elrond was old, but he looked about the same age as Glorfindel (in his early to mid-thirties). His eyes were in no way beady, but a warm silvery-blue. However, that didn't change the fact that I was still being interrogated. It didn't start out that way, don't get me wrong. They talked about trivial things at first that slowly lead to asking me questions.

"The necklace you are wearing is very pretty." Elrond stated, referring to the amber sun around my neck. My grandma's necklace was nice and safe by my hat.

I smiled because it was true. It _was_ very pretty; however, it was also pretty comical that important mayor-like elf thought my necklace was worth any comment. I felt the strange urge to say something about it and for the oddest reason, I felt I should tell him, "My sister has one too, hers is a moon."

Maybe, I shouldn't have been so surprised when he asked me another question after that ambiguous statement, "Where is your sister, dear one?"

"I don't know…" I sadly muttered. I missed her terribly, why did he have to bring it up?

"You lost sight of her next to the river, seventeen days ago. Is that right?" Glorfindel gently asked next to me.

"Yes, she jumped in after I fell… I can't swim…" I breathed, almost defensively. 'It wasn't my fault…was it?'

"Where were you before that?" Elrond asked after a short silence.

"On the cliffs overlooking the river; we had a picnic and were walking along the edge…"

"Is that where you last spoke to your sister?"

"Yes." Elrond nodded earnestly, as if those last few answers were actually helpful.

"And before you were on the cliff sides, where were you then?"

"Home," I immediately answered.

"Where is your home?"

"I…" That was a good question, where _was_ it? "I don't know."

"You don't remember?" Both Elrond and Glorfindel looked alarmed at this statement. What had I said wrong?

"I…I…remember. I… just…don't know where it is." I looked at the floor, uncomfortable with them staring at me like that.

"I see. Can you tell me where your parents are?"

"My sister and I stay with my grandparents." I glared at the floor, "He didn't want us near my brothers. My mama did nothing…not that she ever stopped him before." I mumbled the last sentence.

"What do you mean, child?"

"My step-father didn't like us. My mama didn't stop him from kicking us to the streets." That was the best way I could explain it without bursting into angry tears. They wouldn't get a better answer from me than that one.

I had braced myself for more questions, but Elrond and Glorfindel exchanged glances before turning back to me. Glorfindel announced, "I believe it is time we had something to eat, what say you Elrond?"

"I agree. Would you care to join us, dear one?" Surprised at the change of topic; I hesitantly nodded my head, nevertheless grateful.

I had followed the two elves, as they walked through the many winding hallways before coming to the entryway that had held the chicory from earlier. They walked over to the hallway past the stairs. The hallway had no doors except for the one at the very end; which were open and had numerous voices floating through them. Gripping my necklace for comfort; I quickly followed Glorfindel's heels, trying to hide behind his bulk.

There was a small dip in conversation, but there was no sudden silence. They stopped at a buffet-like table that was spread with a variety of breakfast food. Glorfindel handed me a plate and asked me to tell him what I wanted to eat. "May I have some bread and that pomegranate?"

"Are you sure? It is very tart." Glorfindel seemed surprised, but he wordlessly handed it to me when I nodded yes. He then filled up his own plate and after that I followed him to the table in the middle of the room that was on a dais. The table was mostly empty except for a few elves here and there. All of them were quite…young. I didn't see any old people at all. Maybe older elves liked to sleep until noon or maybe they had already got here and left?

I was happy when Glorfindel and Elrond talked quietly amongst themselves. I was not in the mood to talk with them right now. I was satisfied with simply nibbling at my food silently, surreptitiously observing the elves around me, and letting all conversation around me turn into background noise. I relaxed and closed my eyes, pretending to be back at home once again.

* * *

Elrond didn't have any doubts about there being an elfling; he saw the undeniable truth while escorting him back to Glorfindel's place. Elrond also didn't have any more doubts about the elfling being raised amongst humans his whole life. He had hoped that wasn't the case, but the child's last statement, proved it. Elves didn't have "step-fathers" and their mother wouldn't have allowed them to be thrust out into the streets at that tender age.

His final statement, 'not that she ever stopped him before,' alarmed Elrond on so many levels. He had discussed it with Glorfindel during breakfast. It was clear to them both that the child's withdrawn attitude had stemmed from more than just shyness. It didn't seem to matter whether or not the lad was amongst the elves. No elf would hurt an elfling it was unthinkable, an impossibility. No elf could have been the cause of his distress; but it was getting more and more evident that it could've been the foster family that the elfling stayed with, until been abandoned.

However, even if this was true the elfling should have _known_ that no harm would come to him with his own kind. Unless, it was as Glorfindel suggested earlier; that this child had not been amongst his own kind long enough for this fact to sink in… Yes, that had to have been the answer. Something had happened to this one's birth parents…and possibly his twin sister that Glorfindel and the elfling had mentioned. It was sad to know that there was no possibility of reuniting this child with his birth parents and the child's timid mannerisms were most troubling, but there were two other things they could solve in the mean time.

One being the missing twin sister, if they could go back along the banks of the nearby river, Mitheithel (that was less than two days ride from where the elfling was found); there was a chance that they would find the other. Whether the child was dead or alive was another question that ate at Elrond. The other thing they could solve was the issue of the child's name. There were many _labels_ and _endearments_ they could address the child by, but none them were the actual _name_ of the elfling. It was time they changed that or in this case, Glorfindel.

It had been discussed last night (and further during breakfast) who would be taking custody of the elfling and be its new guardian; since the location of the previous guardians were unknown and that they were (clearly) elderly humans. It was a sad fact, but they would not have been able to take care of the elflings until they were old enough to care for themselves. Glorfindel had requested rights, saying that he had been contemplating it for some days now. If the child did not want to share his name; Glorfindel would ask the child's permission to christen him with another one, a _new_ one.

When they had went back to Glorfindel's home; the child briefly went into his room, before coming back out clutching something…green. The child sat back on one of the two chairs in the living room and fondled the green object tenderly. Glorfindel had already reclaimed his spot of the couch and was looking back at Elrond with an unreadable expression. Looks like Elrond would be the one to break the silence…again. "Child," he waited until the elfling's blue eyes were on him. "What is your name?"

The child's bewildered expression caused Elrond to smile; clearly he hadn't been expecting that question. "I…" The child's eyes lowered and looked off to the side. He didn't make any signs to continue his statement.

"If you wish, you could have a new one; like a new beginning." Glorfindel prompted gently. The child glanced back up at these words, looking slightly uncertain. The child studied both Glorfindel and Elrond before looking back to the green object in his lap. There was a hole in it which he opened wider, stared at something in it for a bit, before putting his hands in the object, and stroked something in there. With a sigh; the elfling took his hand out and smoothed out the green object on his lap, flatting it out.

Regarding both of the elf-lords with a searching look that seemed hopeful and yet it also almost seemed reluctant to receive a name. "But…" the child looked away, curling and uncurling his toes. "What happens then? Would _this_ place…be my…my…_home_ then?"

"It is if you wish it to be." Glorfindel said as neutrally as he could; Elrond wasn't fooled though, he could tell how anxious Glorfindel was.

All the tension seemed to flood out of the small elfling's body. "I would…I would like to have a name…if that is all right…" Elrond studied Glorfindel then; his face tried to be impassive, but his excitement was shining through his eyes. Elrond could not stop the smile that spread across his face at his friend's glee.

Glorfindel paused a long moment before calling out to the elfling, "Sehnae." Satisfied with the aptly put name, he reasserted that it was the name he had chosen. "Your name will be Sehnae." The child seemed to test out the name for himself, before he gave a tentative smile.

"A good name," Elrond approved, giving another smile of his own. "It is nice to finally meet you, Sehnae."

* * *

I hung about outside, wandering around Imladris. I had a new name and Glorfindel told me that I would be staying with him. He and Elrond had to talk about some important things, so he asked if I could go play outside. Glorfindel said he would come find me when they were done. While I was outside, I was accosted by many an elf, most of them being female. They acted like they hadn't seen a six-year-old before; or in the elves' case, a fifteen-year-old.

They mostly twittered amongst themselves with questions like; who was the lucky couple, how old was he, when did he get here, why wasn't there any news of him sooner, and _what was his name_? The first time it happened; I had managed to squeak out my name before fleeing, but as it got more and more common, I just started bolting at the first sign of any elf ladies in their long, swishy dresses. Finally, having enough of it, I hid in the first big building I could find, thinking it was the same house that Glorfindel's (and now mine too) home was in. It wasn't, but it was a place I always found solace in back at home; a library.

It was large and I grinned, thinking of all the hours I could spend reading in here. However, it wasn't until I looked at the titles on the spines of the book; did I realize that I couldn't understand any of the printed words here. Frustrated, I banged my head against the bookshelf. I jumped when someone said, "I would appreciate it, if you would cease in beating my books with your head. That is not how most people gain knowledge; usually they would try to read the books first." Surprised, I whirled around and backed away a few paces from a rather tall elf with long, black hair and unruffled grey eyes.

"I…I can't read and…there are no picture books…" I looked at the floor, hoping he wouldn't toss me out of the library to be chased around again by those elven ladies.

"Preposterous," the elf snorted, "the issue isn't that you _cannot_ read; it is that you have not _learned_."

"I don't know anyone…who would teach me…or at least would have the _time_ to teach me…" I curled and uncurled my toes, fiddling with my shirt.

"Ridiculous," he snorted again. After a moment of silence, in which he seemed to scrutinize me with a fined toothed comb, he abruptly said, "My name is Erestor. Hello. How do you fair? My favorite color is green. I have a temperamental mare. I dislike people who say or do stupid things and don't know how to stop talking. I like honey cakes and sweets."

I ogled at him mystified as he had a one-sided introduction. He stared straight into my eyes and intoned, "Now you know me."

Hesitantly, I asked after a few beats of silence, "Erestor…could you…teach me how to read… Please?"

"Of course, I _could_. The question is _would_ I teach some random child, whose name I do not even know, how to read? But I would despise to have another individual left to wander around the land untaught in the art of reading." Erestor turned and walked away while he was saying the above monologue; I stayed there unsure if it was a 'yes' or 'no' answer. Suddenly, he called back to me, irritated, while he was still walking away, "Do you want to learn or not?"

Smiling, I ran after him as he briskly walked to the studying section that held tables, chairs, parchment, quills, and books.

"No running in the library!"

* * *

_Cerweth the seventh of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

My head fell with a muted thump on the table. This was my fifth day here in Imladris and I was dog-tired. The elven ladies had heard of who I was and they probably somehow found out what little they could about my history; because now they came in small manageable groups of two to three people. Of course, that still didn't mean that their attentions were not overwhelming. I did, however, learn that if I stayed with Glorfindel, Elrond, or Erestor (especially Erestor); they would leave me alone.

Speaking of Erestor, I grew very fond of him over the past few days. Most people (read: elven ladies) seemed to avoid him because of his brusque manner, frank way of speaking, and sometimes cynical or sarcastic disposition. Truthfully, I liked him a lot and I knew he really did care; he just had a roundabout way of doing it. He reminded me of a certain sister of mine who was currently MIA or AWOL. He was like a grown-up, male, grey-eyed version of my sister; which was rather nice, because I knew what to say and how to act around him.

Erestor was also a very good teacher and he was easy to understand, because we were on the same wavelength. Learning how to read and write in elvish was another matter. The first thing I did was learn the fifty letters and/or symbols; twenty-four primary letters, fifteen additional letters, and eleven "tehtar" symbols. So the elven alphabet has thirty-nine letters with eleven extra symbols that, like French symbols, help you tell if the sound the letter makes is long, short, stressed, trilled, or what have you. Then I had to learn the sounds they made.

After I learned those sounds and what they sound like together, I just had to read them out loud to Erestor. As I pronounced the sounds aloud, I was able to understand the words I was trying to enunciate. It didn't take long for me to be able to not have to read them aloud, but in my mind. However, the difficult part was just beginning; Erestor was not simply satisfied with teaching me how to read. He also wanted to teach me how to write and prefect my penmanship. He was a perfectionist to the end…just like my sister.

I found it hard to decompose the words back to their original letters and symbols based on sound alone. However, I _liked_ doing it; in a way, it was a fun exercise for my brain. I liked learning things like this. Maybe I didn't have as much zeal for it like Laura, but that didn't mean I dislike learning or that I am bad at it. On the contrary, I do well when it comes to learning and doing new things. I am the Jack-of all-trades; good at everything, professional of nothing. Well, except for my biotic knowledge.

That was the only thing I was really and truly good at: gardening, animal care, domestic duties, psychology, and even some first aid. Of the two of us, Laura says that I am better at people, which I am sad to say it wasn't holding true for me at the moment. If I am too shy to even open my mouth and say 'hi' to a person, what use is that? Of course, usually I was quite social, but at least then I had an idea of whom, or in this case what, I was exactly. I don't know what being an elf was all about and I didn't want to give it away lest I be cast of from elvish society; banned for all eternity or at least for the rest of my life anyway. How long _do_ elves live for anyhow? Seeing the lack of old people makes me think they die young…

"Erestor, my hand is about to fall off from the writer's cramp I am developing…" I softly complained (in actuality, my hand got a blister and it was bothering my terribly).

"Then I will simply ask Elrond to sew it back on for you, five more lines." Erestor answered not even looking up from his book on what appeared to be the elvish version of 'Handling Elflings for Dummies.' Although he tried to hide it behind a large encyclopedia for medical plant life in someplace called Arda, I could see the self-help book sticking out. Oh Erestor, it was almost scary how alike you and Laura are. Looking for answers in books instead of asking for help and then hiding the fact that you _are_ researching it to save face… Or more like to hide the fact that you care so as to protect yourself from teasing, friendly or otherwise… I set the quill down after my last line had been written.

"Acceptable, I know you can do better though. I am guessing that Faervel and her companions are the cause of this exhaustion and stress of yours?" Erestor nonchalantly turned the page. I blinked and stared at him shocked. Was it that obvious that I was trying to avoid the female population of Imladris? Wow and I thought I was being discreet…

Faervel is one of the few tailors in Imladris. When I was brought to her shop, she went crazy in the sense of there being something different to make in the way of clothes. She made the outfits Glorfindel requested and then some. I think she liked playing dress up a little _too_ much, her and all of her apprentices/ coworkers both. Crazy people, the lot of them… The bright side is all of the clothes are really comfortable and _none_ of them are made of that detestable material _velvet_. I had requested that one little favor and they were actually nice enough to listen. It really made my day when I got those new clothes (after like what? Three days?); all of them fitting _perfectly_.

Getting off track here, anyway she had taken an interest in me and refused to leave me alone. She was so friendly as to be slightly over-bearing; I could not bring myself to tell her to 'bugger off' lest I hurt her feelings. Faervel reminded me of one of those 'doggie lovers.' Doggie lovers would smother the poor canine with affection and not give it any personal space. Faervel was sadly not getting what it meant to be a 'dog lover' instead of a 'doggie lover.' Seriously, just metaphorically pet me on the head, nicely, before moving on.

Sheepishly, I nodded my head and then asked, "May I help shelf the books today?" I had asked the same thing the other day and was able to relish the feeling of surprising Erestor at how good I was at doing it. I had also gotten to explain to him about the library book system that the librarian back at home used. The Imladris book system was different, in the sense of where the categories were, the fact that all of them were alphabetical by author, and the lack of a fictional section.

What a major shock to my system when I heard that the fiction section was limited to half a book shelf. (Granted, it was still a large bookshelf, but only half of it? Seriously?) Even then there were mostly poems, no actual stories. Erestor had laughed when I said that all of the inhabitants of Imladris were sad and deprived people.

Well, it was actually after I vowed to fill the rest of the bookshelf with worthwhile fables, fairytales, parables, legends, bedtime stories, and what have you that Erestor pointed out that I didn't know how to write. At my affronted expression, he let out an 'undignified' snort of laughter. To cover up the fact that he actually _did_ have a sense of humor; he stated that he would teach me how to write whether I wanted to or not, because as we all know Erestor _never_ leaves _anything_ half-done.

"Yes, I suppose you could…" Erestor cleared his throat and busily shut his book(s) before hastily putting them in his desk drawer; which, as he told me earlier, was out-of-bounds-with-no-exceptions. Stifling my giggles, I grabbed some books from the return cart and proceeded to put them away to their rightful places on the shelves. The quiet evenings with Erestor were always something to look forward to. He may have been a slave driver when it comes to teaching me things, but his subtle compliments and his pride when I learned how to read so quickly was more than worth it.

Erestor never really said he was proud of me out loud. However, the way he held himself when he was discussing my progress with Glorfindel, when neither of them though I was paying attention I might add, spoke volumes about how he felt about my improvement. Every time I thought about it, I would get the warm tinglies inside. I had found that being in Imladris' library was easily my favorite pastime, especially since it liked to rain a lot this month. Thankfully, there were no more thunder storms since the day after the stone fort incident…

* * *

_Cerweth the eleventh of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

Now that I could read, I liked to browse the sections while I was putting the returned books back in their rightful places. Before lessons, I would stalk the aisles looking for any book that would hold an interest for me. I had tried to commit as many of the book titles to memory as I could, as well as remember which page I was at in the current book I was reading; however, that hadn't been working out very well for the past few days. Erestor had noticed my efforts and had taken pity on me. "You realize that you _could_ take the books you find appealing back to your home."

I could feel my ears turn red and I looked down sheepishly, saying, "I have so many books I wish to read, and there is not enough room on the bookshelves at home. Besides, someone might wish to read a book that I have on my to-read list. I would have written down the names of the books so that I could find them later but… my handwriting still needs a whole bunch of work done to it…"

Erestor raised an eyebrow, "I see." He then walked away. Feeling that the conversation was over, I continued re-shelving the books as well as browsing for any more good reads. As I said before, however, Erestor _never_ does _anything_ half-done. I didn't expect Erestor to return a few minutes later to show me something. He brought me before a small bookshelf, on that barely reached his shoulder. He said that I could bring any of the books I wished to read here. I just had to make a small sign that read, in my neatest handwriting; that if an elf couldn't find a book in its usual spot, they should check in Sehnae's (my) small bookshelf near the fiction section.

Of course it took me _ages_ before I was able to write anything _half_ decent and even then it was because some of the elvish letters reminded me of cursive. The moment I was able to write a sign with letters that looked tidy, if a little thick from me pressing the quill down too hard, I posted it up. Then I immediately collected all the books I found so far that held any interest. I had sixty-three books in my collection, all varying from Dwarvish architecture to the diverse breeds of insects in a place called 'Mirkwood.' I particularly found the history section enthralling.

I had read up to where Fëanor creates the Silmarils and became paranoid that the elves and/or Valar will take them, cause Fëanor to hide the jewels. Eventually, after the destruction of the great trees (a breath-taking picture was provided, by the way), the Valar ask if Fëanor will gift them with the Silmarils. He, Fëanor, refuses only to find afterwards that the jewels have been stolen. In a rage he persuades the Ñoldor to leave and sail; few do. At this point they have taken an oath to _kill_ (yes, you heard me right; _kill_) anyone who tries to take the Silmarils who happen to _not _be Fëanor or one of his sons.

They arrive at Alqualondë where the first kin-slaying takes place. The whole fight was caused by the Teleri elves; for they wanted _nothing_ to do with the Silmarils and refused to give the boats to the Ñoldor. A Silmaril is recovered by Beren and Lúthien which they gave to their son, Dior. Fëanor's sons kill for it and it gets passed to Elwing. The oath that the Ñoldor have taken causes them to start the second kin-slaying when the Silmaril comes to Elwing. Ewing's village is slaughtered and Elwing jumps into the sea with the Silmaril to protect it.

Remember Beren and Lúthien? Apparently, they have a little history of their own (a little meaning another whole book) on the tragic story that is their life. It was like a twisted version of Romeo and Juliet… I wonder if the elves would like Shakespeare? However, before I could read any more about the Silmarils, Erestor came by informing me that it was getting late and that it would be best if I went home now. I looked at the window and saw that it was twilight.

It didn't take me long to realize that in Imladris, they enforce strict bed-times. Until I am one-hundred years old, apparently I have to be in bed by the time all the stars come out… I still cannot tell if Glorfindel was joking about the century-year-old thing. I hope not, because a ninety-year-old grandma with a bed-time is just sad…

* * *

_Cerweth the thirteenth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

I had been reading some more history of the elves and I had reached the book that talked about the great elven city of Gondolin. The last section of the book had alarmed me when it was discussing the 'Fall of Gondolin.' The elves had been celebrating the festival of Tarnin Austa when the city had been attacked by Morgoth and his armies of orcs, dragons, and balrogs.

The next section of the reading had startled me at first, 'The twelve House of the Gondothlim had prepared for battle: Turgon and the House of the King; Tuor and the House of the Wing; Maeglin and the House of the Mole; Duilin and the house of the Swallow; Egalamoth and the House of the Heavenly Arch; Penlod and the twin Houses of the Pillar and the Tower of Snow; Galdorand and the House of the Tree; Salgant and the House of the Harp; Rog and the House of the Hammer of Wrath; _Glorfindel and the House of the Golden Flower; and Ecthelion and the House of the Fountain_.'

Glorfindel and Ecthelion! I couldn't believe it! I was tempted at first to declare it as a coincidence like how some people could have the same first names and different surnames, but I wasn't for sure. However, that wasn't the only thing that alarmed me. If only it was…

'As the armies of Morgoth, commanded by Gothmog, crossed the plain of Tumladen; the Houses of the Heavenly Arch and of the Swallow, both houses of archers, opened fire. It did little to stop them. Once they had reached the city, however, they found that they couldn't attack the walls nor could the beast of Morgoth climb them as the sides of Amon Gwareth were smooth and hard. Gothmog then turned his attention to the North Gate and used iron monsters (there was no picture, but I kept thinking of golems and tanks) that Morgoth had forged to break down the gate doors.

Meanwhile Maeglin tried to kill Eärendil by throwing him over the walls and then goad Idril to lead him through her secret passage out of the city. Tuor stopped him just as he was dragging Eärendil to the walls; letting out a great shout, a battle ensued between the Houses of the Mole and of the Wing. Tuor pushed Maeglin over the walls, left his wife and son (Idril and Eärendil) in the care of Voronwë and a guard of warriors from his house before returning to battle. The balrogs had then come upon the defenders at the gate. Duilin and Penlod were slain, but Rog rallied his House about him and made for a desperate charge, beating the enemy back from the gates and bringing the battle out onto Tumladen where he was later slain as well.

The dragons had breached the Western wall and were causing chaos on that side. However; Tuor, Ecthelion, and their respective Houses were ready to meet them. Tuor and Ecthelion proved themselves mighty in battle, slaying orc chieftains and balrogs left and right; but it was there that Ecthelion brought a wound on his left arm from a balrog's whip. There a great dragon appeared and trampled all those about it, orc and elf alike; but Tuor hacked off its foot and it fled the fight.

And so, slowly but surely all those Houses that remained were driven back. Of the chieftains; Turgon, Tuor, Ecthelion, Galdor, Egalmoth, and Glorfindel were left. Glorfindel came late, only able to escape his position once the House of the Harp relieved the House of the Golden Flower.

There they made their final stand. They were hard pressed and soon what barricades they made were broken. Gothmog then entered and Ecthelion stepped forward to face him even though he was seriously injured. Gothmog disarmed and ruined Ecthelion's right arm, however, Ecthelion wasn't so easily defeated. Driving the spike of his helmet into Gothmog's chest, he wrapped his legs around the balrog's body and forced Gothmog into the fountain behind him. There they both drowned.'

I think I started crying here, because I kept picturing Glorfindel's pained expression once he heard his friend had died. Pulling myself together, I hurriedly read on…

'Battle proved vain and Turgon quoted the words of the prophet, Amnon, "Great is the fall of Gondolin." As the elves were pushed further and further back into the city, Turgon gave up his crown and declared Tuor leader. A desperate counsel took place and Tuor informed them of his secret passage way. Seeing that this was the best plan, they gathered as many survivors as they could find and followed Tuor. At Tuor's house they met up with Idril and a mass of people, however, Eärendil was missing and Tuor feared that he was dead.

Going into the passage, they met a fork in the road. Tuor wanted to take the long way, fearing that the usual place of exit was a trap. Some disagreed and there they split ways. The elves who had disagreed with Tuor met a dragon at the end of their path; none were spared… Those who followed Tuor made it out and traveled far across the plain.

When they looked back, they saw six elves being chased by orcs riding wolves. Tuor saw Eärendil on one elf's shoulder. After gathering around fifty elves, they go and destroy the orcs. Eärendil is reunited with Tuor and Idril.

Tuor and the refugees make it to Eagle's cleft and they moved along a narrow pass at the edge of a cliff. They were already well along the trail when a rain of rocks came from above thrown by orcs. A balrog set behind them, trying to prevent escape from the city. Glorfindel intercepted the balrog and a fight ensued in the heights.

Glorfindel cut off its arm and wrestled with it. Glorfindel defeated the balrog by forcing his weight against it; sending the balrog over the brink and into the abyss. Glorfindel's hair was entangled in the balrog's grasp as they had wrestled, so Glorfindel had met the same fate as his foe.'

Tears fell on the pages and my body shook as I started weeping. (The picture on the next page, depicting this, didn't help at all.) The pain I felt for this Glorfindel was personal, because I knew a Glorfindel that looked _just_ like the one fighting the balrog in the picture.

I couldn't bear to look at the book anymore and shoved it aside; being a touch more rough with it than I usually would have. I let out another strangled sob as the words ran through my head once more.

Why was it so hard to breathe?

Hands gripped my shoulders and a faraway sounding voice worriedly asked what was wrong with me and why was I crying. Shakily, I gestured to the book. I opened my mouth to say something, _anything_, but all that came out was something between a moan and a whimper.

"He is hysterical…" The voice muttered in disbelief, "The book does not explain what to do when they are hysterical!" The voice seemed to fret a bit more, before the hands on my shoulders tightened and pulled me into a stiff hug. I felt long fingers hesitantly combed through my hair and a hand haltingly rubbed my back. Letting out a hiccupping sigh, I automatically clung to the person holding me; my tears damping their clothes. They were tense the whole time, but that was fine. I just needed something to cling to.

_Something with a heart beat…_

* * *

_Cerweth the fifteenth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

Erestor and I have a tacit agreement never to speak of my breakdown at the library. It was as if it never happened. I was touched that Erestor would do that for me though, it was rather obvious that he was not the most touchy-feely person in the world. I never found out how the story of Gondolin ended. I also never saw spine nor speck of the book after that either (although, I had a sneaking suspicion that it was in Erestor's out-of-bounds-with-no-exceptions desk drawer).

Speaking of the drawer, it turned out I wasn't the only one who was not allowed to either: go in it or be privy to what was in it. I had been shelving books, as was my habit after lessons, when Glorfindel walked in the library. He had come to fetch me after lessons to show me the stables; I had been hinting for a while now that I was interested in seeing Hissael once again. I looked up and gave him a grin. I wanted nothing more at that moment to drop my books and give him a hug, but I had a rather large pile of books. If I did drop them, I would probably trip over them or damage them.

Erestor would not be impressed.

Instead, I just settled with giving him a smile and nod over in Erestor's direction. They could keep each other company while I finished shelving the books.

* * *

Glorfindel was amused at the look Sehnae gave him every time he walked in the room after been gone for a while. It was the same look a puppy would get when their owner would return home. Not that Sehnae was a puppy or that Glorfindel was his owner. Glorfindel was more like a parental figure or, at least, he _hoped_ that was how Sehnae thought of him. He hoped that Sehnae trusted him enough to give him that pleasure.

Sehnae bobbed his head in the direction that dear Erestor was in and mouthed the words, "Half a minute."

Nodding, Glorfindel walked up behind the dark-haired librarian and said, "Good afternoon, Erestor." Erestor startled, slammed the book he was reading shut, hid it, and glowered at Glorfindel not too happy at being snuck up on.

"Go away, Glorfindel." Glorfindel gained a mischievous expression at Erestor's lack of tact and obvious discomfort as he tried to hide something discreetly.

"Oh, you _wound_ me, my dear friend. Fortunately for me, I cannot comply to your…request." Glorfindel grin widened as Erestor started to look absolutely peeved.

"Oh, yes. I forgot. You are here to come and get Sehnae." Erestor harrumphed.

"Yes, I had walked over to exchange pleasantries with you, but what do I find? It appears our Lord Erestor has a secret. Care to share?" Glorfindel moved to come and stand in front of the chair that Erestor was sitting in.

"No. It is none of your concern." Erestor looked away shiftily.

"Indeed." Glorfindel arched an amused eyebrow.

"Yes, now if you'll excuse me…" Erestor stood up and made to pass Glorfindel, who used his nimble fingers to snatch the book Erestor had been reading out of his hands. Erestor made a startled cry of protest and tried to snatch the book back. Glorfindel simply held it further out of his reach, his height being what Erestor deemed as an unfair advantage.

"What is this? There appears to be another book hidden within this one!"Glorfindel removed the smaller book from its hiding place in the bigger volume. Erestor sighed, knowing that it was now far too late for him to prevent Glorfindel from seeing anymore.

"Well, now you know. Give back to me and do not, I repeat _do not_, breath a word of this to _anyone_." Erestor grounded out with a pique expression.

Glorfindel regarded him with a smile, before gently saying, "It is not a crime to _care_, Erestor. No one's opinion of you will change; but if it does, it will be for good."

"That is exactly what I am trying to avoid."

"What ever for?" Glorfindel asked bewildered.

"Because then I will not get a moment's peace, with all those silly women trying to 'understand' me and have 'claiming rights' on me. You most certainly know, Glorfindel, that the only thing that is keeping them at bay is the idea that I am a cynical and calculating elf… which is not that far from the truth after all." Erestor grumped.

"I can attest to that, however, Sehnae can also attest otherwise." Glorfindel said good-naturedly. "He has grown rather fond of you, which would be a rather hard feat; if you were only what you say you are."

"Sehnae is young and irrational... Simple things like that do not appear to bother him... nor do they seem to bother you, or Elrond for that matter, either."

"That is because we know that for all your bravado; you are a very tender-hearted elf."

"Right." Erestor huffed and put out his hand expectantly. Glorfindel returned both books to the Ñoldo. Without any hesitation, Erestor immediately put the books into his drawer; and just in time too. Sehnae had finished shelving the books and walked over. (Unbeknownst to the two elf-lords, Sehnae had saw the whole exchange.)

"Since, Sehnae is done; we will be taking our leave now."

"Yes, yes." Erestor waved them off and then said, "Remember what I told you, Glorfindel!" Glorfindel simply chuckled and waved as he walked out the door with Sehnae only a few steps behind him.

* * *

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

**Translations: ***Cerweth is July.

*I realized that I have been neglecting to do translations for names, so here they are.

~Solreen - Memory Shackles

~Sehnae - Soft Whisper

~Cael - Archer

~Ruean - Dream Rider

~Rydre - Charming Jade (probably in reference to his eyes)

~Hulian - Horse Master (He works in the lesser stables and breaks in new horses)

~Elorne - Star Tree

~Glorfindel - Golden Hair

~Elrond - Star Cave

~Elladan - Elf Dúnadan

~Elrohir - Elf Knight

~Erestor - Lone Namer

**Explanations: ***Honor Rae has _no_ _idea_ that elves live forever; it has also slipped her mind that elves age slowly. It will be a running gag that she thinks that someone has hide away all the old people, until someone tells her otherwise.

*****Elves only marry once, no matter what other fan fictions tell you otherwise. Step-fathers **_DO NOT_ _EXIST_** in elvish society. Elves are also _**EXTREMELY**_ protective of their young. Elrond was right when he said that what Honor Rae's human parents did was an impossibility. He also, however, was wrong when he said that she was adopted as well as her being a boy. Those are two sticky little situations that will eventually be covered as well as her originally being human.

*****Pomegranates would be grown in the area of Harad, most likely. Elves would probably have traded with them and have obtained the seeds and have grown their own. They have green hands, not just thumbs.

*****The green object with a hole was Honor Rae's hat.

*****Erestor... how _am_ I going to explain how I came up with _him_? I suppose he is a mixture of Severus Snape, Squidward Tentacles, Dr. Temperance "Bones" Brennan, Dr. Gregory House, and, of course, my own mother. (I love the woman, I really do.)

Enjoy him as he is; he is one of a kind.

*****The Synopses were found online on various sites.

*****The century-year-old thing was _not_ a joke. That is when elves reached their official majority. However, families tend to stay together even past that until the children find their mates and make children of their own.

*****I actually find it unfair that Ecthelion slays the KING OF BALROGS, dies in the process, and does not get sent back. Glorfindel kills some ordinary balrogs, dies in the process, and does get sent back. Apparently it was to cover up a mistake that Tolkien made after his book was already published. Elves aren't supposed to have the same name twice. We know for sure that Tolkien decided that our Glorfindel is the reincarnated elf Glorfindel, Chief of the House of the Golden Flowers in Gondolin. He perished when the city fell, one of the few elves to ever defeat a Balrog.

Tolkien was far from happy with this state of affairs, however, and it seems that he intended to reconcile the problem by uniting the two strands of the story. In summary, the notes tell us that Glorfindel's spirit returned to the Halls of Waiting, but was after a time re-embodied by the Valar. He then returned to Middle-earth (either in the mid-Second Age, or as a companion of the Istari in the Third).

I made a mistaken and thought that Glorfindel was the reborn Gil-galad. Oops. But I came up with a solution to this. For my story, Glorfindel is "re-embodied" three different times. The thing is Tolkien's timeline really doesn't play well with this idea. Check out below:

**(I – denotes First Age, II – denotes Second Age, III – Third Age)**

_~ I 445 – Ereinion (Gil-Galad) was born_

_~ I 510 – Fall of Gondolin, Glorfindel was killed._

_~ II 3441 – The Last Alliance, Gil-Galad was killed._

_~ III 1974 – Battle of Fornost, The first time that Glorfindel is mentioned, so we can assume he returned from the West before this time. I'm going to go ahead and say he's at least 144 which is about one yéni (a "long year" according to the elves). If that's true, then he'd been born about III 1830._

So the dates really, really don't work out. Basically, I'm making Gil-Galad's birth a hundred years later.

**(I – denotes First Age, II – denotes Second Age, III – Third Age)**

_~ I 510 – Fall of Gondolin, Glorfindel was killed._

_~ I 545 – Ereinion (Gil-Galad) was born._

_~ II 3441 – The Last Alliance, Gil-Galad was killed._

_~ III 1830 - Glorfindel's asumed re-embodiment._

...I am such a nerd.

*****I'm quite elves would have self-help books. Honor Rae was just being cheeky when she said it was "How to Handle Elflings for Dummies," though.

*****No, this is not going to turn into a slash fiction. It's just friendly bantering and teasing between two old friends. **I am for serious.**

**Advertisements:**

**TITLE: **GLORFINDEL: The Complete Owner's Guide and Exprience

**AUTHOR: **Neoko-chan

**ID: **8738168

**SUMMARY: **Unlike other Owner's Guide and Manuals, this one tells what one owner experienced AFTER buying one of our units. We warn you that results may vary when you buy our products. How you interact with you units and how your units respond WILL VARY. We are not responsible for ANY (un)satisfaction that may occur. Enjoy at your own risk.

**OPINION: **It may be a little self-serving to advertise my own story, but why not? This story is a AU Fan Fiction for 'A Ring of Endless Light.' So why don't you check it out?

**Thought Process: **I am sorry that I have not updated in a long while. I just have been feeling under the weather. (I.E. Diseased) On top of that, I had Finals.

This month was not very kind to me.

I have been itching to introduce Erestor to you, so I hope it makes up for the past few weeks. :)

Happy Martin Luther King Day.

_Date submitted: Monday, January 21, 2013._


	12. Merry meet again

**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.**

_**Disclaimer:**__** All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

* * *

_Cerweth the twenty-second of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

The next day when Gandalf and I came down for breakfast, Aled was bringing the hobbit person their food. Grinning, I thought of the fun the pair of us had had the previous day with free reign of the stables...

We had spent most of the day perched on stools at Eba's stall door, eating apples as the mare snuffed at us and our pockets looking for _her_ treat. At one point it occurred to me that despite the pesky language barrier, there were some games we could still play; including an old favorite, tag.

Grinning, I poked his arm before dashing away from the stall, pausing to see if he was following before sticking my tongue out at him. He had simply stood there at first, but at my obvious gesture, he dashed towards me at my spot, peeking around the stable entrance. I was long gone across the courtyard, waving at him. After all, what was a game of tag without the classic here-I-am-catch-me-if-you-can display?

After a bit Aled caught up, really 'tagged' me, and the mad chase was reversed. It took a bit longer for me to tag him and once that challenge had been done, we both collapsed in a pile of breathless giggles and grins.

A while later, we sat near Eba's stall once more; waiting for our adults to decide that we wouldn't be underfoot too much.

* * *

_Cerweth the twenty-second of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

We left nearly at the crack of dawn, no matter how cliché that might sound. Gandalf woke me about a half hour earlier to pack what little I had brought out of my few belongings while he went to go saddle up Eba, who Gandalf had apparently purchased the previous day. However, there was one thing that troubled me, I hadn't gotten to say farewell to Aled.

We had spent the previous day together except when he needed to help with the inn. Despite that, I hadn't worked up the courage to tell him that I would be leaving, at some level I realized that I should enjoy what I have in the present. There would be time to miss him later.

Disheartened by this as I made my way down the stairs for the last time to meet Gandalf in front, I was half surprised when Aled was perched at one of the long tables. He was sleepy as would be expected from him at this obscene hour. I should have guessed he would pull something like this. Smiling, I hugged him, quite glad that he gave a damn enough to bother saying goodbye.

An idea struck me then, I looked at him with a grin now, held out my pinkie, and used my extremely limited Westron. "I come back... promise." An utterly pathetic attempt, yet hopefully enough to get the message across. Thankfully he did understand me. Grinning back, he wrapped his pinkie around mine. Just then Gandalf called for me; I quickly hugged Aled once more before rushing out.

Finding Gandalf in front of the building with Eba's reins in his hand, I smiled slightly. The thought came to me that, come this journey's end there would be yet another parting; one that I fully expected to sting fiercer and prick deeper than the one that just occurred.

Once we reached this other place, Gandalf would most likely find those he was looking for. I sincerely doubted that he would want a not-very-useful child like me tagging along as he traveled. No, after we arrived he might not stay for even a day.

And I wondered... what would happen after that?

As the crown that was Bree dwindled in the distance, a faint wind picked up. I recalled my promise to Aled, one I intended to keep.

_...Unlike another promise, one I wish I had..._

Distinctly aware of the copper anklet I was wearing, I half-smiled at the memories attached to it.

* * *

_A familiar laugh_...

We were waiting for the buses. Snow covered the ground, and the air was clear with chill. Hearing my friend behind me I turned with a smile. And a clump of snow hit me square in the chest. Laughing he held up another, clearly taking aim...

_Mischievous grins..._

Sitting at lunch, I was about to open my chocolate milk only to have it snatched away. Turning to look at who it was I saw him; black (formerly blond) hair, green eyes, thin as a stick, and nearly as short as me. He was holding my milk in one hand and the other was on his hip, he was wearing his classic grin.

_Vampire Zach._

It wasn't his real name of course, but it did suit him. And after knowing him, well, I'll never look at that name the same way.

Then the memories turned sour.

_Worry and frustration..._

Just as he could be cheerful and impish, he had a side that was most certainly troubled.

_Absence..._

I left. Moving to an almost completely different life.

He stayed. And as simple as that, one of my closest friendships began to unravel.

_...I had promised to keep in touch..._

_...I hadn't, not really..._

_...Now the anklet felt heavy..._

Turning for one last look at the town another memory came.

_It was the last day. For most, the last day before summer before they saw everyone the next year. For me at least, it was the last day. _

_Period. _

_After the bus pulls away it would be years before I have any reason to return or a way for that matter. The ground was squishy from the spring melt as I leaned against the brick wall, waiting for the group. Buses lined up at the curb, yellow and black._

_...Like a row of giant bees..._

_People swarming by the main doors with some trickling towards the buses. Turning away from them I spotted Honor and Zach. They were bantering about something or other as they paused after exiting the side doors. It truly struck me then that everything was changing and this would be the last time I saw that exact sight._

_...That our group might not last as long as we had always thought..._

_The buses started up, a warning for riders to hurry. Quickly, I went over to hug the pair farewell with forced smile and a betraying whisper._

_"Goodbye."_

_...Goodbye: at that moment I hated the word, loathed it like no other..._

_For after our hurried embraces, we went our separate ways..._

_...and everything changed..._

* * *

_Cerweth the twenty-fourth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

We had been on the road for two days; the weather, if not exactly sunny, was quite pleasant. That morning, like the ones on the road before, was spent on a horse's back, chewing on bits of dried meat as breakfast. Now, I really do enjoy horses and the scenery was amazing, but multiple days of either one or both and a person can get rather... _mind-numbingly_ _bored._

After I had chewed my meat long enough that even Obama would have gotten sick of his gum, I proceeded to braid Eba's mane. I had done this multiple times in the past days; braiding, unbraiding, and then re-braiding her hair. After the second straight day of both watching the scenery pass and braiding in some form or fashion, I was quite sure that even Honor would be impressed with my skills that had previously consisted of quick basic and side braids...

Anyway, ignoring my ramblings, around the third day, I recalled an old book of mine from years ago. It had been filled with stories, colorful and magical tales from what I guessed to be an area of Britain. They hadn't been the watered down versions, like Disney, but had that authentic, real taste of troubles and endings that hadn't always been happy... They struck chords within that were far deeper than any story of sparkles, rainbows, and an ever sunny world ever could.

I looked down at the braid in my hands, grey and smooth. Suddenly, I was sick and tired of braids. I turned to Gandalf, twisting in my perch between him and Eba's neck. "Gandalf... could you tell me a story? Please?"

* * *

Solreen had been quite well behaved after they left Bree, although that could have been attributed to her missing her friend, Aled. For some reason, the pair had gotten on extremely well and almost immediately. The duo had seemed to be like two peas in a pod... After leaving Bree, Solreen had withdrawn, nearly as much as she was when he had first encountered her. The only real differences were that she was better kept and she trusted him, at least to some degree.

The youngster was obviously not the type to spill her secrets easily, but Gandalf was old enough to realize that was never the only definition of trust. He took note of that when she would lean back into him as they rode or when she somewhat absently clutched his robe in Bree. He also noticed that even now the little doll he had given her was safely tucked away in her lap as she braided the mare's grey mane. The doll's twine hair had already been braided. He smiled.

He was not completely surprised when she turned around to him and asked for a story.

While not the ideal tale for children, it was one that would eventually provide the child a better sense of understanding, since she was a Dunédain. It also had the fact of it being true history in its favor, a tale of Yavanna.

* * *

Gandalf was quiet for a minute or two. Tempting as it was to say something, I remained quiet; he would probably decide on a story soon. He hadn't said no, so I was working on that assumption. When he did speak his voice was lower; it seemed off.

"Millennia ago, when the world of Arda was still quite young, one of the Valar planted and nurtured the very first growing things. Her name was Yavanna, and she loved these trees and plants. She tended them with great care, happily watching them grow and grow, until a jealous, spiteful and all around horrible, former companion sent poison into the veins of the world. The poison was killing and rotting the fruits of Yavanna's tender care.

The Valar moved and, in time, Yavanna replanted the fruits. Years passed and the world was shuttered in the darkness caused by the Valar's former companion. Out of the many races, only that of dwarves was allowed to remain awake, digging deep beneath the land. Yavanna feared for her Trees, threatened as they were by the industriousness of the dwarves. In answer to her plea, another one of the stronger Valar created the Ents, the Tree Shepherds. Their purpose was to protect their charges."

As he looked down at the child, he was incredibly tempted to laugh; her face was captured in an expression of thoroughly peaked interest. Her wide eyes almost_ shined_ with fascination and her work on the mare's braid had stilled as he spoke. Despite his amusement, he heard her murmured words, words spoken so softly as to be nearly inaudible. He wasn't entirely sure she had even realized that she'd said them aloud, "That was a really good story..."

Gandalf smiled. Again.

* * *

_Cerweth the twenty-fifth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

It was the evening of the third day. Gandalf hadn't told another story, but when I pictured Eba's mane as something a bit more interesting-say, a mass of grass or the fallen twigs from a walnut tree-it made the continuous braiding far more entertaining. But now it was night, the darkness was interrupted by the fire's dancing. It cast our small camp in a red-gold glow, a stark contrast with the shinning stars above and the moon's pale light.

As I observed the slight clouds passing across the Lady's face there was a swell of emotion; a kind of wildness, one that was not unfamiliar. For that night, however, I wouldn't truly answer the call. I needed to sleep; not dance or sing. Instead I spoke nine words. "Merry meet and Merry part and Merry meet again."

_Merry meet again..._

_Let that be true..._

_Please..._

* * *

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

**Translation: **Cerweth is July.

**Explanations: ***Ha, kudos to you, if you noticed that we added a copper anklet to Laura's few belongings. No, there is nothing magical about said anklets, it is simply there for sentimentality's sake.

* * *

*I realized there might be some holes in the timeline that you might be wondering about. Here is the official timeline.

_~Laura and Honor Rae meet in seventh grade and separate at end of the year. They are thirteen._

_~Laura lives with Aunt and Uncle until middle of eighth grade. They are fourteen._

_~Laura lives with Honor Rae's family until thrown out in the summer after ninth grade and before tenth. They are fourteen._

_~Laura and Honor Rae live with Honor Rae's Grandma until their death. They die at fifteen._

If you actually read the author's notes, you just got a bit of spoilers. ;)

* * *

*I am not quite sure about the dwarves being the only ones awake at that point, but if it is not cannon, blame it on Gandalf becoming senile.

*The Lady is in reference to the moon. (Hint one to Laura's religion.)

*Merry meet and Merry part and Merry meet again. (Hint two at Laura's religion.)

**Thought Process: **Hey guys and gals, sorry about the long wait, but I have gone partially-deaf in my left ear, because I apparently got fluid in my middle ear! If left untreated, it is supposed to left for three more months.

Gah!

Sorry, you people _**DO NOT**_ want to hear (no pun intended) about my partially-deaf left ear. My next update will be on my sister Raylin's first birthday on March eighth. Don't though, I will make it a doozy.

Love you all and Happy Valentines day!

_Date Submitted: Thursday, February 14, 2013._


	13. Erestor's old mare AKA The Royal Terror

The **answer** to **why the elves think Honor Rae is a boy** is on the bottom in the **explanations section.**

* * *

**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.**

_**Disclaimer:**__** All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

* * *

_Cerweth the nineteenth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

The smell of hay greeted me the moment I entered the stables followed by the friendly nickering of horses. Curious heads turn towards me and some sniff me for sweets. "Sorry," I whisper, "I don't have any with me today." Still the sweet-toothed horses continue to thoroughly check and see if I had anything hidden; satisfied, if not a little disappointed, they turned back to what they were doing before I came in. I gave the ones who continued to stick around, even after they knew I didn't have any treats, a pat on the nose. I slowly made my way to the back, checking to see if Hissael was still in his stall.

Nope, it was empty. Maybe he was out in the pastures?

I made my way to the back of the stables and went out the back door. I looked around, but none of the horses were in sight; they weren't in the meadow. Deciding that they were hiding in the trees, I followed the fence to the cluster of oaks, maples, aspens, and elms. I listened intently, but I did not hear a peep from any of the horses. Curious of the silence, I stepped away from the "protection" of the fence and wandered deeper into the grove searching for the illusive herd of horses.

Finally, I heard them once I made my way out of the trees. They were in the far clearing, doing what horses do best; graze and play horse games. My eyes scanned the herd for any sign of Hissael, there was easily fifteen white and cream-colored horses.

Well, take one step at a time, I suppose.

I walked amongst the herd and petted each one that raised its head as I walked by. Most of the time I was able to tell immediately if a white or cream-colored horse was or was not Hissael, but there were some horses where it got hard to tell. Trying not to offend a horse by mistaking him for Hissael; I would continuously say, "Hissael. Hissael. Come out, come out, where ever you are." If a horse looked up briefly and looked back down I knew it was not Hissael. I was about half-way through when I found him.

He was grazing while some birds were perching on his shoulder. His ears immediately perked and he turned his head in my direction when he heard me call his name. "Excuse me." I said, nudging a horse's hindquarters out of the way and ran over to Hissael, who leisurely walked my way.

"Hissael! I missed you." My voice was muffled by his chest while I hugged him. He seemed to whinny an agreement and then, like many horses before him, he snuffled around my person for treats. Laughing, I apologized, "Sorry, Hissael. I don't have any." Hissael snorted, like he was almost protesting. He raised his head and looked down at me with an expression that could only be a horse's mock-scowl.

Could he...could he understand me? No, that's absurd. Horses can't understand us, you can train them to understand certain commands, but anything beyond that is not possible. Or was it? Curiously, I looked at him and asked, "Hissael? Can you really understand what I say?" Hissael lowered his head and gently blew in my face. Blinking and making a grossed out expression from the bits of horse snot that landed on me.

"Eww..."I paused and then asked, "Is that a yes or a no?" Hissael, of course, didn't answer. It's not like a horse's mouth was built for answering a foolish girl's question. Come on Honor Rae, we are not in a Disney movie here.

"I thought so, I was told that horses couldn't speak, let alone any other animal, when I was younger. But I always kind of hoped...I guess I was being a block-head again. Just because elves and dragons exist, doesn't mean there are talking animals!" Hissael hr-hr-hrmed in a way that made me think he was laughing at me.

Hissael was so very tolerant of me and my childish tendencies. He was very well-mannered too. Not like Shad-rack my uncle Kevin's horse, he was an ill-tempered, old thing. Grandma said it was psychotic. Hissael was a complete one-eighty in comparison to him. If all elvish horses were like this and maybe, if I asked politely and didn't spook the horses, I wouldn't need to get an adult to help me ride them! "Hey, Hissael?" I waited until he looked up with his mouth full of grass. "I would like to ride you, but you would have to lie down. Could do that? Lie down, I mean."

Hissael chewed on his mouthful of grass for a minute or two. Watching as I repeated myself and tried to say it in different tones and phrases. Swallowing it, he finally lied down on his stomach, legs neatly folded up underneath him. "Thank you." I grinned, excited at being able to ride a horse again. Apparently, the command he was looking for was 'sleep.'

Most people would think that I would've been tired and sick of riding a horse from all the riding I did with the hunt. The truth was, however, that was not recreational riding. That was more like it was required; I had no other choice. This time I can stop when ever I want to. Or until Hissael wants me off his back, at least. When I could back at home, I used to ride Herbie for hours. Grandma was always the one who said I was finished, because she was always worried about my health.

I tried to swing my leg over Hissael's back. He was a bit too tall for that. Okay, now what? Maybe if I try to climb on Hissael as if I was trying to climb over him...

Going on my tippy-toes, I reached over Hissael's back with my left hand while I took a strong grasp on his mane with my right. I thrust my left leg up as far as it would go and after a few tries, I managed to hook my foot mostly over Hissael's back. I pushed my foot as hard as I could against the ground while at the same time pulled as hard as I could with my remaining limbs. I was mostly on him and readjusting myself, when Hissael suddenly leaped to his feet, probably thinking I was completely situated.

I squeezed, holding on for dear life so I didn't fall off. I completely forgot that squeezing with your legs, like I was currently doing, was the signal for the horse to get moving. And since I was squeezing so much he probably thought I wanted him to run. "Meep!" I managed to squeak out as I was shaken up and down in time with Hissael. Hissael was unaware of my current situation and was therefore enjoying himself. 'If I wasn't so terrified, I would have been enjoying myself too,' I mused in the back of my head.

A sharp and sudden turn brought me back to the present as Hissael was racing through the trees. Trunks of trees swooshed by on my left and right, making me yelp at their closeness. Hissael expertly dodged in between them like a professional show horse in between the barrels. I couldn't help but flinch and shut me eyes in fear of crashing. However, we never did, for Hissael most certainly did not want to run into a tree. I slowly opened my eyes and cautiously looked around. We were out of the trees and the some of the other horses followed us, thinking it was a game, most likely. Now I had to worry about the horses running into us too.

Lovely.

Watching the landscape move so quickly in my current position made me nauseous, I looked down to the ground willing the feeling to go away. Green grass whizzed by as Hissael thundered along; my hands were getting sweaty and I started to hyperventilate. I had to get down.

_Now_.

However, I couldn't simply let go or I would get flattened into a pancake by the horses behind us. My throat was dry and I forgot the command for stop in my slowly rising panic. I whimpered and buried my face in Hissael's mane, "Stop...please..."He either didn't hear or understand me, probably a mixture of both. The sensation got worse; my stomach started doing flip-flops and my pulse started rising higher and higher, faster and faster. I was definitely going to be sick.

"Stop. Heel. Wait. Pause. Freeze. Don't move. Slow down, _oh dear Lord in heaven_, slow down, _I beg of you_." I moaned as I felt myself slip a little more down to one side. A sharp whistle filled the air and loud command soon followed after words. Hissael slowed down to a stop. I slid the rest of the way down to that one side and barely held on by Hissael mane before I fell off. I lay there unable to move as the sky above me appeared to cant to one side, I moaned again.

That was undoubtedly the worst riding experience of my life.

* * *

Elorne has seen the elfling (Sehnae wasn't it?) wander into the pastures from his spot outside the stables. He did not really expect the quiet youth to get into any trouble or, at least, not with his unassuming demeanor. So imagine Elorne's surprise when he hears some horses running into the closest meadow that was next to the stables and sees that Sehnae was hitching a ride. The elfling appeared to be doing a good job holding on by himself nix the part where he was slightly tilted side ways.

Elorne stood up from his spot on a crate to get a better look of the group of horses and the young horse rider. Nothing looked out-of-place and the elfling seemed to be enjoying himself. Or so Elorne guessed since the child wasn't screaming bloody murder and since Elorne could not get that good of a look at the expression on Sehnae's face. It wasn't until Sehnae started sliding off some more that Elorne grew worried. Deciding to play it safe, he blew a short, sharp note and then shouted out, "Halt!"

The horses obediently came to a stop and not a moment too soon. For not long after, Sehnae slid down one side barely hanging by the mane. Worried for Sehnae, Elorne hopped over the fence and raced over to him. He was about half-way there when Sehnae fell off completely and didn't move from his spot on the ground. Elorne panicked until he stood over Sehnae and got a good look at him. The child was merely dizzy and most likely a little nauseous. He could tell by Sehnae's eyes which were rapidly tracking side to side.

"That was not very wise of you," Elorne scolded him. "You could have gotten seriously hurt. If you want to ride a horse, you must ask first."

"...S-sorry..." Sehnae stuttered as his eyes tried to focus on him, looking a little green around the gills.

"Sit up and put your head between you legs. It should pass." Elorne ordered not unkindly. Sehnae clumsily sat up hunched over, wrapping his arms around his legs, and placing his head between the knees. A minutes or so passed and when Sehnae finally looked up, Elorne jokingly asked if Sehnae wanted another try on the horse, only to receive a moan as Sehnae placed his head back in-between his knees. Elorne laughed at the young elf-child's response, completely amused and knowing that Sehnae wouldn't be doing a stunt like that again anytime soon.

* * *

Glorfindel exited the library; after bugging Erestor for a few minutes, he got around to asking which section Sehnae was in, so Glorfindel could go collect him for dinner. Erestor irritably answered, "As I have pointed out before, you may have to clean your ears out and soon. If Sehnae was here, he would have finished his stack and joined us by now, laughing at these childish batters you always seem to drag me in." Erestor snorted, "Warriors..."

Erestor then said that Sehnae was likely to either be in the gardens or the stables. The gardens because Erestor had noticed Sehnae reading more plant books as of late and the stables because Sehnae had enjoyed his visit there four days ago. Sehnae had apparently mentioned in passing to Erestor that he was thinking about visiting Elorne and Hissael again sometime soon. There was a likely possibility that the 'sometime soon' was today.

There were two stables in Imladris, the main one and the minor one. However, Elorne was the Stable Master for the main one and Hassel was currently in the main stable as well. So Sehnae would logically be in the main stable by the "front entrance" to Imladris. The front entrance wasn't so much of a front entrance as it was the most well-known and used entrance. The "back entrance" was not so much secret as it was hard to find for people unfamiliar with it. The back entrance had the most direct exit and path over the Misty Mountains, it was also well-guarded from any trespassers or foul creature.

Glorfindel checked the sky; it was starting to get dark. He took a short cut up the hills, ignored the path, and went through the Hall of Fire instead of going around the building. Cutting across the grass again, he went over the bridge, and went straight over to the main stables. Glorfindel stepped inside, his sharp eyes peering around, trying to spot his ward. Instead, he found a good friend of his; Elorne was grooming a horse and gave Glorfindel a 'hello.'

Glorfindel smiled, returned the hello back, and then asked, "Did you see Sehnae recently?"

Elorne turned around to face him completely, "I did actually, a funny thing happened earlier with him." Elorne tone implied it was anything but funny.

"Oh, really?" Glorfindel was rather startled; Sehnae wasn't one to get in trouble nor was Elorne one to get bothered with small antics. Something was not right with this picture.

"When he came in here today looking for your horse, Hissael, he went out back into the pastures. He went into the trees and was gone for a bit. When he came back, it was riding on the back of a galloping Hissael followed by several other galloping horses. I didn't think anything of it, except that Sehnae was slightly lopsided, riding the horse." Elorne had paused, trying to gauge Glorfindel's reaction, but nothing to it. Glorfindel's face was not revealing any of the hidden panic, fear, and worry that was starting to bubble up within him.

"Go on." He had managed to squeeze out, sounding mostly like his normal self.

"It was when I saw him start to fall off the horse that I realized something was off with him. I ordered the horses to stop and not a moment too soon, for the instant they came to a stop, Sehnae fell off the horse!" Elorne went on and said something else, but Glorfindel wasn't paying attention. He could not hear anything over the sound of his heart racing and blood pumping in his ears. With those five words, Elorne had managed to scare the ever-living daylights out of Glorfindel.

"Where is he now?" He managed to choke out; Elorne finally took a good hard look at his friend again and saw the worry and panic in his eyes.

He was about to repeat himself and again reassure Glorfindel that Sehnae was, indeed, unscathed. Then Elorne realized as he looked at the balrog-slayer, no matter what he said, none of it would make a bit of difference. Glorfindel would have to see the evidence, or lack thereof, for himself. "He is in the back." Glorfindel swept by him without further ado.

Glorfindel's pace was not a walk, but not yet a run either; for he was almost scared what he would find. What he did find was Sehnae standing on a stool and doing his best to groom Hissael completely, even though he was much too short. The child was completely oblivious to the anxiety he had caused and happily chattered away to Hissael. Hissael saw Glorfindel coming and whinnied a greeting, alerting Sehnae to his presence. Sehnae's face lit up and scrambled off his perch, causing him to tumble off the stool in his hurry to the golden-haired warrior.

This only served to make Glorfindel even more worried.

Glorfindel went on one knee and caught the eager elfling as he gave him a hug. Glorfindel allowed this for a few seconds, before pulling Sehnae away and examining him. One hand held Sehnae's chin while the other was around his back making sure to keep him in place. Glorfindel peered in Sehnae eyes looking for the signs of a concussion; pupils that were bigger than normal or pupils that were uneven sizes.

Sehnae already had changes in breathing pattern and unsteady walking!

"G'orf'ndel, what'er yoo doin'?" Sehnae tried to say around the fingers that were clamped around his chin and were distorting his speech.

His speech was slurred too!

Urgently, Glorfindel turned Sehnae around and felt around the elfling's head searching for a lump. When he got to a small bump on the back of Sehnae's head and gently pressed it, Sehnae flinched with a whimper. "Ow..."

That's it, Sehnae was going to the healing wing.

* * *

Eirien was used to seeing many unusual things happen in the large healing wing, but never had she had to deal with something quite like this. That is, she never had to deal with Glorfindel, a normally level-headed elf-lord, panicking that his elfling had gotten a terrible concussion. Said elfling was being held in one of his arms looking mildly embarrassed and slightly sheepish about the whole thing. Flustered, Eirien managed to calm the elf-lord down enough to where could he set-down the elfling on the examination table without much fuss about 'making the concussion worse or something.'

First thing Eirien did was look into Sehnae eyes, trying to see if the pupils were different, and found them to be normal. Then she started asking questions while feeling the child's head for a lump. "Do you have a headache?"

"No."

"Do you have any dizziness?"

"Not anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I got dizzy when I was on the horse, which is why I fell off."

"I see. Did you lose consciousness after you fell off?"

"No, I just hit my head. I felt dizzy and sick, but Elorne had me put my head between my legs. Then I felt better."

"Did you have any bleeding in your ears or nose?"

"None...ow." Eirien found the elfling's bump. It was small and was only slight swelled up, like it had shrunk. It would be gone tomorrow and would only be a bruise for the next few days. It would be completely hidden by his hair.

"Do you feel like you are in a fog, are you ears ringing, or are you sensitive to light and sound?"

"No."

"I see." Eirien then turn to the elf-lord, "Well, Lord Glorfindel, I have reached a conclusion."

"Yes?" He seemed on the edge of his seat, waiting for her diagnosis.

"There is not a concussion nor does there appear to be any danger for one to form anytime soon." Eirien could practically see all the tension drain out of Glorfindel with relief. His elfling seemed to have a 'I told you so' expression although not a word was said. The elfling politely thanked Eirien for her time and jumped off the examination table.

Gripping Glorfindel's hand, the child quiet coaxed him out of the room saying, "Let us go eat, 'Findel. I do not know about you, but I am starting to get hungry." And the big elf-lord; a huge elf that makes orcs tremble in fear, that demands respect from his subordinates when he is in charge, and was a hero of legend... He simply let himself be gently led away like the small elfling that was talking so encouragingly to him.

Eirien had to wonder, just how much did Glorfindel get wrapped around the elfling's finger?

* * *

_Cerweth the Twenty-third of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

Well, I was finally free. I honestly didn't mean to frighten Glorfindel like I did. It just sort of happened... I had no idea that he would over-react and somehow get the idea that I had a concussion. Of course, that still did not excuse what I did, that is to say, ride a horse without asking permission and without parental supervision. In my case though, he simply changed it into adult supervision, but the pause was enough for me to fill in the blank for what he was about to say. Maybe that was why I got off so light. I was simply grounded to the Last Homely House and was not allowed to leave the building for three days.

I think he was surprised as much as I was when a gave a disbelieving, "Really? That is all? I... I thought have to polish all the metal shiny things in Imladris or...or... muck out all the stables, feed all the animals, and groom them or...or..." Then I thought of the movie, _Forrest_ _Gump_, and said, "...Or scrub all the floors with my toothbrush... or something like that...erm..." His horrified and disgusted expression was what made me stop and mutter a small 'never mind.' I had thought at the very least I would have been kept from leaving my room...

It almost was not like a punishment at all, really. I kept feeling guilty every time I left Glorfindel's home to wander in the halls of the Last Homely House, so I had tried to do it as little as possible. Another thing was that no one was breathing down my neck the whole three days either, like my step-dad would have. It was nice and a little strange to know that people, besides Laura and my grandparents, trusted me enough that I would not try to get out of my punishment.

It was liberating actually.

First thing I did was go visit Erestor and apologize for neglecting my duties. He looked at me like I had said something stupid, "What on Arda are you going on about? I do not recall giving you any duties."

"...Erm, I usually shelf the books; I haven't been doing that in the past few days." I curled and uncurled my toes, then nervously shuffled my feet.

Erestor raised an eyebrow and then scowled, "Stop looking as if I am going to strike you. That was never your job in the first place. It was something to do as you please, volunteer work, if you will."

I ducked my head and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "Sorry."

Erestor shook his head, "You have no need to apologize." Then he frowned, "If you are so worried about it, then you are banned from the library for the day. I order you to play outside; laugh, giggle, shout, I do not have a care. Just do something an elfling your age would do." Erestor then proceeded to shoo me out of the library and shut the door behind me.

_The problem was I did not have a clue how elflings my age acted_...

Well, that was one thing I had to do off my list. Now I had to go formally apologize to Elorne for getting him into the awkward position of having to tell Glorfindel what happened with my misdeed... and also apologize again for misdeed. Maybe he would not be too mad? I thoughtfully followed the path that led to the direction of the stables.

I walked up the steps and noticed a dragonfly zip past me. Squealing in delight, I chased after it; I had always loved dragonflies. They ate all the mosquitoes and gnats as well as any other annoyingly miniscule pests. As far as insects go, dragonflies are among the fastest. Some of the faster species can fly up to thirty miles per hour. Their four wings also allow them to move up, down, sideways, backward, forward, and virtually in any other direction. And they can do all of these movements quickly and accurately; which makes them well suited to eat those pests right out of the air!

I followed it into the gardens and then stopped chasing it, distracted by all the colorful and fragrant flowers. I wouldn't describe them as beautiful, because I find that redundant. I feel that the word 'flower' should make you think of its beauty. Even if it is wilted, it still is pretty. Why do you think horror-lovers like dead roses so much?

Actually, this was the first time in a long time that I had visited a garden; never mind the fact that I had never visited this garden before! There were some tulips ranging in colors from yellow to orange, pink to red, and purple to violet. I tried to smell all of them separately, but there were too many and most were too far from the path for me to reach. I loathed the thought of stepping off the path of fear of treading on them.

Fun fact is that tulip bulbs could be used in place of onions when cooking. I haven't tried it before, but it sounds delicious...

* * *

The sound of the noon bell jolted me awake from the cat nap that I had not been aware that I was taking. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, it took awhile to process just where I was, what time it was, and what I was supposed to be doing.

Shoot.

I had gotten completely side-tracked! I was supposed to be begging for forgiveness from Elorne and hope he was not too mad at me. I still wanted to worked with the horses, but I would not want to do it under unpleasant conditions... Such as grudge-holding stable-masters. I did not know Elorne all that well and he was, in fact, a little intimidating with all his...bulk. He also had a very serious face on most of the time. The last time I really had any actual time to get to know him was when I did a misdeed. Not the best official-first-impression ever.

I cut through the Last Homely House and ignored the path, instead I just made a bee-line to the stables. I had already put this off longer than necessary. There was a stable-hand sweeping out the inside of the building when I entered. He looked up with a smiled and politely asked if I needed any help after seeing me scope the stables for Elorne with my eyes. "Erm...yes. I-I am looking for... E-Elorne. Is he... um... is he here?" I looked down at the floor, my faced slowly growing redder each time I cleared my throat or stuttered.

"He is in the back fixing Aradhel's horse shoes." Aradhel was Erestor's mane. Some people when they first hear her name think that it was meant as a joke. However, Aradhel was indeed a "royal terror." Royal terror is just the elvish version of a holy terror, I soon found out. She was meaner than old Shad-rack, but that was because she was getting on in the years. Erestor choose her out of the herd not too long ago when he retired his other horse, Baracallon. Well, it was more like Erestor was the only elf Aradhel took a fancy to, so she chased away all the others.

Apparently, she can be really possessive. She was also very picky on who could and who could not care for her. Erestor and Elorne are some on the few who can and are allowed to by Baracallon, who had taken a fancy to Aradhel.

Elorne was just as the stable-hand said he would be. He was hammering a horseshoe into one of Aradhel's hoofs; Aradhel whipped her head towards me and gave a deep "ha-aan-nn." Nervously, I took a step back and Aradhel flared her nose as if to say, "That will teach you."

Elorne briefly looked up at me, before turning back to his job, saying, "Come over towards me. She will not nip you, if you are back here, because she knows if she moves too much a nail will be accidentally put in the wrong way and hurt her." I carefully inches my way over to Elorne, but apparently I did not keep enough distance between myself and Aradhel. She whipped her head towards me, as if to bite me, but instead she gave me a quick sniff. Her ears pricked forward and gave a small squeal. Aradhel pulled something out of my hair and ate it; I think it was a flower.

I _hope_ it was a flower.

Aradhel gave me another once over with her nose and as soon as she ate a few more... _somethings_ ... she gave me a head butt and turned forward, completely ignoring me. Elorne let out a snort of laughter at my petrified expression, "She has taken a liking to you. You are not in any danger. Besides, she might not seem like it, but she likes children; foals, colts, and... elflings, it appears..." I eyed Aradhel cautiously for a minute or so longer before quickly walking my way over to Elorne.

"Um...E-Elorne?" His head tilted towards me, but otherwise he did not give any other indication he was listening. "I...I would like to apologize for... for what happened the last time I was here." I was looking down at my feet, but I could feel Elorne's eyes on me. "It-it was really stupid and foolish and...and... I should have asked for permission and...and... I..." I tried to continue, but there seemed to be something stuck in my throat. Instead, I could only curl and uncurl my toes. I sensed movement, peeking from under my lashes I saw his hand rise up like a righteous fist; scared I tightly clenched my eyes shut waiting for the inevitable blow.

Instead, something gently patted me on the head.

"Elorne, I-"

"There is nothing for you to apologize for. It was a mistake and you have learned from it. There is nothing more to it." I nodded and tried to smile, but I was afraid that it came out as more of a grimace as the tears started to drip down my face. "It is good that you are safe," he said quietly and handed me a handkerchief. He went back to his work and let me have a few moments to myself to let me calm down and clean myself up.

* * *

_Cerweth the Twenty-fifth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

"…and then they went away together and they lived in the Blue Mountains, far away. In time, they would have founded a great city, where you would see statues celebrating the little boy, and the little girl, and the golden horse; and the great city would be known across the land for a place where you would go to stay if you would need to be reminded that there is more to life than toil, and if you look to find your magic." Honor Rae said, concluding her tale of the golden horse as she finished grooming Baracallon, who snorted appreciatively.

Honor Rae smiled, "It is one of my favorite fairy tales about horses too."

"You tell good stories." Elorne stated simply as he mucked out the stall next door.

"I...I do not make them, I-I just repeat them." Honor Rae stuttered embarrassed.

"Either way, they are good. You could be a bard some day."

"I can not sing worth anything." Honor Rae lied awkwardly. She could sing, but only in private and could not bear the thought of singing in front of an audience. The rubber ducky was her only witness as she sang in the shower and now that was gone too. She rarely sang anymore."I am...tone deaf."

Elorne looked at her bemused, "Bards do not _have_ to sing, they usually leave that to the minstrels."

"Well," She considered, "Maybe some day far away in the future."

"Maybe." Elorne steadily agreed. Silence fell on the pair as they continued their duties. Honor Rae had desperately wanted to make herself useful. She consider working at the library as a hobby, something to do for fun. What she really desired was something to do that would, in its own way, give back to the community. Like taking care of the horses that were, in essence, their very lifeblood.

It took some asking and a little wheedling, but she managed to get permission from both Glorfindel and Elorne. More from Glorfindel than from Elorne, because Elorne was fine with it if Glorfindel was. Glorfindel was wary of the idea at first because the incident with Hissael was still fresh in his mind. Eirien was on to something when she was thinking about how Glorfindel was wrapped around Sehnae's little finger, considering how quickly he gave in compared to how stubborn he usually was.

But maybe another part of the reason why he gave in so quickly, was because he trusted Elorne like one would trust a loyal friend. He knew that Elorne would be one of the best people to watch the elfling besides himself. That and Elorne had better immunity to an elfling's doe eyes than he ever did. Before the twins hit puberty, he was at their beck and call.

He wizened up eventually.

With Arwen, he was the only one who was immune to her crocodile tears, but the first one, other than her parents, to comfort her when she cried real ones. That was far better than what most elves could say. But somehow with this elfling who seemed so wise beyond its years, Glorfindel kept finding his will weakened when the child made one of its rare requests.

In fact, he could easily count on his ten fingers all the times that the child had made an honest request. A request that did not count asking where the rest room was, to please pass the carrots, or if he could possibly tell the time. Honest requests were ones like could he stay at the library a little longer, would he mind telling a story to him, or taking him to the stables to see Hissael. There were only four other requests besides those, five if you included the request that his clothes weren't made of velvet.

Simple requests, nothing too extravagant.

So maybe it wasn't too much of a surprise when Honor Rae's -Sehnae's- request to be a junior stable hand was granted. She found that Elorne was not as intimidating as Elorne looked. He was like a giant realistic-looking teddy-bear. Absolutely terrifying (from her prospective) at first glance, but is filled with soft stuffing and a big tender heart.

He always lended a gentle hand when she needed help, but it was always without comment and without drawing attention to her weakness. His advice was always sound and given after a lot of thought, never rushed or brash. Elorne, much like Cael, was like a giant big-brother that anyone would love to have.

Honor Rae found that it was nice to have so many people here in Imladris that she cared for. Glorfindel, Erestor, Cael, Ruean, Rydre, and now Elorne. It warmed her heart and almost made her forget. Almost made her forget the sister that was noticeably missing from her life. Almost made her forget that she was, possibly, dead. Almost made her forget those first few days alone and so very afraid. Almost made her forget what she left behind.

Almost.

* * *

_Cerweth the Twenty-seventh of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

I felt dirty, sweaty, and even sticky as I left the stables, but in between those gross feeling and sensations, I felt...satisfied. Like I finally approved of myself and the difference I was making, no matter how small it was. I also had a way to vent out my...less than positive feelings and urges. Dark emotions that had been following me around lately, like I was PMSing without the PMS. It was like being back in elementary school, back when I had a therapist and was on more medication than my body could handle...

I could feel the glow from the stables slowly fade as my thoughts trailed back down that dismal road with with mental rainclouds and tears. I could not think about that right now; I could not let all my hard work at gaining all this positive feeling and emotions go to waste. Instead, I tried to think about what I did the past few days. I did not have to think about it for long before my happy glow came back.

I liked my simple schedule. Wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast, go to the library, help Erestor, eat lunch, and then I go to the stables. I first sign in on a small off-to-the-side desk that has a piece of parchment with an inkwell and quill. Then I feed Erestor's horses and Hissael, if they are in the stables. If they are not, then I clean and muck out their stalls. I sweep the long isle and help clean the tack. If I see a horse that looks like it needed grooming, it was my job to do it, unless someone else was already doing it.

Mostly, I just kept the horses -and stable-hands- company. I was always more than happy to do a favor or do an errand for anyone who asked. Although, I did notice that the elves tended to give me very simple and easy tasks to do, nothing too strenuous or hard to do. In fact the hardest thing was mucking out the stables and even then I had discovered that they had done most of the work. I just had to put in new hay.

I usually told short stories that I remembered, like 'The Black Cat' by Edgar Allen Poe. The first time I told it, the elves looked at me with expressions that I could not fathom. I had later understood that elflings were not supposed to know morbid stories like that and be able to retell them with moderate accuracy. That was the last time I retold any stories by Mr. Poe or any other author with stories that were a little too grown up for me to tell for the elves' likings.

I really had to watch myself now-a-days. I kept slipping up; doing things that were not normal for a child my age, saying things that were too wise for my supposed mentality, and my ignorance was something of a growing fear for me. I don't know how much longer I can stand it; I want to spill my guts so very badly. I haven't told any lies, yet, and I want to keep it that way.

_But..._ _isn't what I am doing now considered lying by omission?_

I was pulled from my thoughts, when someone plucked me up from the ground and into their arms. I had panicked and struggled for a few seconds, until I realized that it was just Glorfindel. I relaxed, going limp, and said, "Hi, 'Findel."

"Hello, Sehnae." He answered cheerfully as he grinned down at me. I wonder what he is being so chipper about? He is usually in a good mood, but you can tell something made him more gleeful than usual. I couldn't help but grin back.

His happiness was really contagious.

* * *

At the dining hall, I kept noticing Glorfindel and that one elf giving each one side-long glances, quickly advert their eyes, and stifle their laughter with their shoulders shaking and chins wobbling from the effort to keep quiet. The elf I was referring to was called...Uh-oh.

I forgot his name.

I know for sure it was El-something-or-other. I only remembered the first syllable, because I rarely ever saw that elf, let alone talked to him. Our personal schedules did not seem to mesh well...

Okay, I wasn't telling the complete truth here.

In actuality, I was avoiding him. I was afraid the elf would kick me out of Imladris if I so much as looked at him funny, I mean, he _was_ the mayor here. I never told my irrational fear to Glorfindel, because knowing him, he would defend his friend. I mean, sure, I was probably overreacting slightly, but _I_ don't know this elf. I know of him, but personally know him? No, he is an unpredictable variable, dangerous even. He was a loaded gun in the hands of a small child, having the possibility of going off at any time. Until I knew more, I would treat him as such.

Of course, he wasn't the _only_ loaded gun. There was also those twins, Aladin and Rohere, I think they were called. I may have forgotten their names too, but at least I didn't forget what they looked like or something equally as pathetic. I had not seen them around for close to a week now, so I assumed that they must be on a patrol or something. They were nothing but friendly all the other times I ran into them, however, I still didn't trust them. I liked them-well, my inner-child did-but I didn't trust them.

I think I am starting to understand Laura now.

My stomach churned and I didn't want to eat the left over food on my plate. I picked at it and slowly ate one bite at a time. By the time my plate was clean, I felt sick, overstuffed, and bloated. I had eaten far too much.

I was already too full from the guilt.

I waited patiently for Glorfindel to finish eating, so I could go straight to bed. However, he seemed intent on socializing with Mr. Mayor-elf, since they had finally got all the giggles out of them during the meal. I glumly watched them as they talked...

And talked...

_And talked..._

I felt my irritation rise and was about to snap at them, before I realized that the only one keeping me here was myself. I tugged on Glorfindel's sleeve to get his attention, no longer caring if he was in mid-sentence talking with El-something-or-other. Then he did something that made me mad, he put up his hand in the silent signal that said, 'wait a minute.' I would later think myself stupid and terribly rude, but at that point in time I didn't care anymore.

I got up and left.

No words.

_I just left without excusing myself._

I went back home to Glorfindel's place and let myself inside. I kicked off my boots and was half-way across the room before I turned back around and grumpily put my boots away in their proper place. Looking around the room, I straightened anything that needed straightening, in my opinion, or cleaned anything that looked dirty. When I was finally satisfied, I crawled into bed and pulled the covers over my head.

If Laura was here now she would have laughed; she always did when I went on my cleaning-sprees. I was a neat and tidy person in general, but when I was upset or wanted to do a minor celebration, I went on a cleaning-spree. It got rid of any excess energy in a way that wouldn't get me in trouble. I was always ridiculed and had gotten over-medicated by doctors if I got a little too crazy or energetic. They diagnosed me with ADHD and set me on the pills.

When I had gotten on the pills and had quieted down because said pills made me sedate to a point of being much like a zombie; the doctors then declared I had depression. I was put on anti-depressants and given a therapist. The therapist never listened to me, only talked the whole time. She would complain about her life, her job, her family, anything really. Then on her reports of me she would write down 'silent, sullen, and unresponsive' because I ignored her complaining and bemoaning.

I was emotionally, and sometimes mentally, unbalanced because of the conflicting medications for the next year and a half.

My grandparents took one look at the state that I had become and they took me to another doctor. I was taken off my pills for ADHA and depression, although the new doctor kept me on my asthma pills. I had gradually developed the knowledge that at home, what was expected of me was to be seen occasionally, but almost never heard. 'If you can't sit still, you better be doing at least _something_ productive,' I believe my step-father's words to me were.

So I cleaned.

I felt better after I set loose my energy and my family didn't have to clean anything, because I easily got upset. I learned not to show it, but their hurtful words really did hurt. 'So much more than I would _ever_ let them know.'

_Weak._

_Useless._

_Pathetic._

_Cow.  
_

_Embarrassing.  
_

_Failure.  
_

_Trashy._

_Cheap._

_Unwanted._

_Unneeded._

_And-_

_**NO!**_

"...No..." I bit back a sob and turn over, balefully watching the stars come out through the window. They shined down coldly and I shivered.

Tonight would be another long night.

* * *

_Cerweth the Twenty-ninth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

Today, I was let out early from the stables because of an oncoming storm. The skies were growing dark and I was, scarily enough, reminded of my first night after waking up next to the river. There were some birds that were gliding through the air with ease under the creepy, dark, low-hanging clouds; however, most of them were hiding. There was the stillness in the air that I was coming to loathe and that hue of color that made everything seem to be cast in a yellow._  
_

The horses back at home would always act up before a storm; calling to each other constantly, skittish over nothing, and chasing each other around a lot. The elvish horses didn't act like they were possessed, but they had a tenseness and almost expectant air as they took shelter under the clusters of trees. The stable-hands and Elorne had said that my help was not needed after I did my duties. Elorne promptly dismissed me the moment I finished, not listening to a word of protest.

The reason why I was so against being let out early was because I needed distractions in my day to keep me sane. My nightmares have gotten worse and anything or anyone to keep my mind off of them was welcome. I haven't been getting much sleep in between my night terrors and laying awake at night trying to convince myself to fall asleep.

'And now with the thunder and lightning storm...' I shivered, 'I won't survive the night.' I needed some kind of a distraction, anyone and anything would work. The first person that I usually would have went would be Glorfindel, but I didn't know where his important senechal office was. I also didn't what to bother Glorfindel more than I probably already was.

I did not know El-what's-his-face very well, so I couldn't-nor wouldn't!-go to him. The twins, frankly, terrified me and they weren't even here. Elrone just dismissed me not too long ago to go do something else with myself, so I couldn't go back to go see him... so that left Erestor...

With a careful grin, my destination was now the library or, more specifically, where all the scribes worked. Checking the dark sky frequently, I walked down the path to the large building and watched the elves go about and quickly finish all their errands or start closing up shop. The birds were almost all gone by now and there were no sounds of crickets, but there were plenty of frogs croaking.

Nervous now, I hurriedly entered the library in hopes to keep my mind off the upcoming storm and nightmares. The library was mostly empty now, the scribes and browsing elves were don to a minimum; I couldn't find Erestor anywhere and his office was empty.

More than a little disheartened, I buried myself in a book about '_The Cottage of Lost_ _Play_.' It was a rather thin book, only about a couple hundred pages long, but it was written with a really archaic style of writing. It took me the amount of time I was looking for, to read and comprehend the story. I had finished thirty-nine minutes before I was suppose to leave for dinner according to the old grandfather clock. Returning the book to its rightful place, I scurried out of the library and down the path to the Last Homely House.

Going back to Glorfindel's home, I washed up before dinner by taking a bath. I put on the large tunic that I used as a sleep shirt with a clean pair of my breeches under it. I quickly dried my short hair with a towel, brushed it out with a comb, and then I put my boots back on. I weaved through the corridors and arrived at the dining hall a few minutes early.

I sat down at the table in the seat that I usually sat on next to Glorfindel. He arrived not too long after with Erestor and another scribe, all appearing to be talking about something serious. By the time they came to the table, they seemed to have reached a conclusion and separated with Glorfindel sitting next to me and Erestor with the scribe sitting further on down. "How was your day, Sehnae?"

"It was fine. I was dismissed early from the stables because of the weather. I read the story of '_The Cottage of Lost Play_' during my free time in the library."

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows, "That old thing? how was it?"

I laughed, "It was good. I liked it."

Glorfindel looked at me in disbelief, "You did?"

"Yes... I feel like I can, in a way, relate to it... Being whisked away to a fair-looking house with a beautiful garden... Being surrounded by fairies in fairyland..." I trailed off, "Imladris feels like a dream that I will wake up from... It makes me want to keep sleeping forever and ever."

Glorfindel studied me closely and I looked down, embarrassed. "However dream-like it may seem, Imladris certainly is real, as am I. You are welcomed here always, Sehnae, let no one or no thing tell you otherwise." He ruffled my hair when I looked at him, touched. "Now, why do we not eat some dinner and then head for bed?" I nodded, rather liking the idea as I wanted to get as much sleep as possible before the storm or the nightmares kept me awake.

Filling my plate, I looked around the hall once more. Another thing I failed to mention to Glorfindel was what Imladris also reminded me of in the story of '_The Cottage of Lost Play_' was the lack of old people. Looking around here now and still not seeing any was a little disconcerting. After saying grace to myself quietly, I dug into the food and tired to concentrate on the flavor rather than my, more than ridiculous, thoughts.

* * *

The rain had started around an hour after Glorfindel bid me a goodnight in my room. I loved rain and the sound of it lulled me into a dream-like state. I had almost forgot that this would not simply be a rainstorm, that it would be a violent one with thunder and lightning. I needn't have worried though, the thunder and lightning soon followed in close behind.

Lightning flashed across the sky with a snarl of thunder, with almost no time in between to count the seconds. I let out a cry as a **BOOM!** sounded right outside my window. The flash of lightning lit my room like it was daytime. I fell out of bed and clumsily forced my way to the window, shaking. I closed the curtains, but I could look though them and see the outline of lightning. The next rumble sent me flying to underneath the covers.

Grandma's old reassurance that it was God and his angels going bowling wasn't helping me anymore.

I trembled underneath the sheets. The summer blankets doing little to muffle the sounds. Flashes and memories of me running in that plain, the raging river, falling into that badger hole, and being unable to breath properly assaulted me. The sensation of suffocating worsened, like something was gripping my throat tighter and tighter at every glare of lightning and crack of thunder, I couldn't cry for help.

Finally snapping when the house vibrated a little from the storm, I threw off the bed covers and fell off the bed in my haste to _escape._ Picking myself up off the floor, I sprinted to the door and threw it open, the sound of it slamming open was muffled my the thunder. I ran down the hall to Glorfindel's room where I paused outside it, shaking. I debated and argued with myself on whether or not I should go in.

The longer I stood out in the hall, the more menacing and scary the darkness seemed. Quivering and crying, I decided that I didn't care anymore and that I would be a little selfish tonight. Jumping at the next roll of thunder, I opened Glorfindel's bedroom door slowly and scurried inside. I carefully picked my way over to his bedside, freezing and trembling at each peal of thunder and glare of lightning.

When I got close to his bed and was about to wake him, Glorfindel's hand suddenly reached out and clamped on my shoulder, "Who is there?" His voice was hard and low. I was reminded of that scary interrogating Glorfindel and let out a squeak. The next flash of lightning illuminated the room, but with his back to the window, I couldn't see Glorfindel's expression.

His grip slackened and his hand release me. "Sehnae? What are you doing up this late?" His crunchy tone had vanished and he sounded like a worried daddy. I whimpered at the sound of thunder and trembled again. "Sehnae?"

"I-I-I am sorry, 'Findel...but-but I was so _scared._"

"Come here," Glorfindel beckoned, arms held out to me, and without any hesitation, I ran into them.

"I _really_ should not have w-woken you up, b-but I...I..." Another roll of thunder had me shaking and burying my face into his chest.

"It is nothing for you to apologize for, Sehnae." I could hear his frown when he said, "Sehnae... you are freezing."

"Y-yes.." I shook again. Glorfindel lifted me on to his lap and started to gently rock me back and forth.

"Do you want to sleep with me tonight?" I nodded feeling foolish, but not truly caring at the moment. "Sehnae, I am going to move, so you can get under the sheets, all right?" He waited for me to nod, before lifting up the sheets and holding them, while waiting for me to scoot under and tucking them around us. I felt much better, but I was still scared from the raging weather outside.

Glorfindel watched me with a soft look in his eyes as he stroked my hair. I closed my eyes with a sigh, only for them to open in panic at the next roar of thunder. Giving a moan of terror, I scooted closer to him and felt gratified when Glorfindel turned on his side and held me close to his body. I could clearly hear his heart beat out a steady rhythm. "Why are you so afraid of storms, Sehnae?"

Memories or running, falling, roaring water, bots of lightning striking close by, and an extreme sense of _aloneness_ consumed me. I let out a sob and shook me head. Glorfindel tried again, "You do not mind anything else about nature and you are quite fearless for an elfling, if a bit cautious. So why fear storms?"

"Because they sound violent..." I skirted around the question, although this was a part of the reason.

"But they are not," Said Glorfindel, resting his chin on my head. "Not really, we have not had a storm violent enough to cause damage in a long time."

"But... but they cause the rivers to flood and rage."

Glorfindel nodded,"But so can a heavy shower of rain without the thunder and lightning."

Out of excuses, I decided to be completely honest. "There was a storm on _that day._"

"On what day?"

"The day after I fell in the river and the day before you found me." Glorfindel's grip on me tightened and that was when I knew that he remembered. "I...I thought that I could make it to the cover of the trees before it got too bad... A-and it did not start out all that scary either... just a lot of rain... B-but then it got worse...and worse... and worse... I could barely see a thing and I...I...I almost fell into the river again... It looked so _angry_." I paused.

"What happened then?" Glorfindel prompter me tightly, to my surprise, he sounded just as scared as I was.

"...Then the storm picked up, lightning bolts struck the ground, sometimes really close by... The thunder roared and the wind screamed at me... it screamed at me until it was the only thing I could hear... And then...and then..." I was weeping as the memories came back, "And then I...could not breath...right anymore... I had to stop...But I did not _want_ to stop... I-I was too scared not to keep moving... then I fell and could-could not get _up_. I was so cold... and so alone... It was scary..."

"You are not alone any longer, Sehnae. That I promise you. You are here now and here you shall stay. The elves of Imladris care for you; we all care for you very much... None more so than myself."

"Really?" I asked in a small voice.

"Truly." Glorfindel confirmed. A long silence stretched between the two of us, broken only by my flinching when a low crackle of thunder happened. Just when I thought that Glorfindel fell asleep, he started humming a strange tune. I could hear him ever so clearly with my ear pressed against his chest. His deep voice rumbled and almost completely drowned out the storm. He started singing in a strange foreign language that sounded so familiar and yet so very different.

"What is that?" I managed to ask drowsily and almost completely asleep.

"Quenya, the old language of the elves, more specifically, I am speaking in the dialect from Gondolin... Do you want me to stop?"

"No...I love it...please... do not stop...it is... so nice..." I sighed.

"Very well." With his fingers carding their way through my hair, he continued to sing and I fell asleep.

_I had no more nightmares that night._

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

**Translations:** * Cerweth is July.

Hissael ~ Wise eyes

Eirien ~ Daisy

Baracallon ~ Quick Hero

Quenya ~ Speech (literally)

***_Explanation for elves thinking that Honor Rae is a boy!_  
**

Okay people, this is seriously the last time I am explaining this. **Elven ladies still can be mistaken for males** **before and even after they hit puberty.** Tolkien describes the ladies as being as **tall and broad-shouldered as the men**. So unless they are expecting babies or are nursing said babies, they are most likely going to be in the A-cup to B-cup range. Just saying.

The only real way to tell the difference is through their **clothes, their names, and their mannerisms.** The hunting party had only a few things to really go by; the** clothes** were what would** be used to dress a male** even though they were several sizes too big, the** short hair** that would be **unheard of for a girl**, the** pierced ears** that would be** given to a male human** sometimes, and the fact that Honor Rae had the tendency to **act more like a boy than a girl.**

***_Explanation for elves thinking that Honor Rae is a boy End._  
**

**Regular Explanations: **

*****Elvish horses are descendants of the meras, who were _extremely_ intelligent and did understand human speech. It would make sense if they could too... doesn't mean that they have to show it though. They will also live for much longer than most horses, like fifty to seventy-five years longer. I mean, _come on_, they are _elvish horses_. For serious.

* * *

*****Concussions are serious business. If they are really bad, they can cause you to die in your sleep. Like the American television direct-response advertisement salesperson that looked like my Grandpa, William Darrell "Billy" Mays, Jr.

Rest in Peace Billy Mays.

Concussion symptoms may or my not include:

A headache that gets worse over time  
Changes in his or her behavior, including irritability or fussiness  
Changes in physical coordination, including stumbling or clumsiness  
Confusion or disorientation  
Slurred speech or other changes in speech  
Vision or eye disturbances, including pupils that are bigger than normal (dilated pupils) or pupils of unequal sizes  
Changes in breathing pattern  
Lasting or recurrent dizziness  
Blood or fluid discharge from the nose or ears  
Large head bumps or bruises on areas other than the forehead, especially in infants under 12 months of age  
A loss of consciousness lasting more than a minute  
Repeated vomiting  
Seizures  
Obvious difficulty with mental function or physical coordination  
Symptoms that worsen over time

Go see a doctor **IMMEDIATELY **if you have _any _of those symptoms!

* * *

*****I loved that horse story. It is called '_The Golden Horse_' by Silvia Hartmann.

*****El-something-or-other and El-what's-his-face is Elrond.

*****Aladin is Elladan.

*****Rohere is Elrohir.

***** _The Cottage of Lost_ _Play _was a story created by Tolkien. You can read in '_The Book of Lost Tales Part One_.'

***** I clean when I get angry or frustrated too. I also go on a cleaning spree when I feel accomplished of something; I expect my room will be _very_ clean after I publish this chapter. :)

* God and his angels go bowling during storms. The lightning is the bowling ball striking the pin and the thunder is the sound of them falling down.

*I would not be surprised if Glorfindel _did _know a few Gondolic lullabies. My co-author, Sylwia Kiley (previously Mayumi Mizuki), is working on writing the lullaby now. When she is done, I will translate in to Quenya (preferably in the Gondolic dialect) and squeeze it into the story some how. So look for it. :)

**Thought Process: **This is the longest chapter I have ever written in my life. The chapter by itself without the author's note is over ten thousand words. For serious.

Today is my sister, Raylin's, first birthday! Pretty sweet, huh?

LOVE YOU ALL!

_Date submitted: Friday, March 8, 2013._


	14. Song of the Trees and Dance of the Storm

**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.**

_**Disclaimer:**__** All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

* * *

_Cerweth the twenty-sixth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

It was the morning of the fourth day and I was yet again braiding Eba's hair. I absent mindedly took in the scenery as I did this. The forest was lush with life; it possessed a vibrancy that almost sang. And with the help of the faint wind, it did. It was a song of delicate leaves, of streaming sunlight, of birdsong and soft paw steps, of the now, of both past and future, and of simply living.

It was as if I had suddenly heard a melody, one that had long been half forgotten. I let myself be swept along, floating on the music's tides. Morning passed into noon, and noon passed into evening. I stayed there, perched in front of Gandalf, braiding Eba's mane, listening to the song.

We stopped under an old oak that night, its branches reaching wide and high. We had stopped with a slight sliver of day fading, still twilight and not really yet night.

_There was plenty of light to climb._

The weathered branches of the sentinel tree were practically calling me. I, of course, answered. After setting my doll down-I really needed to name her-safely at the roots, I scampered up, finding a perch a crook of one of the higher and thicker branches.

Even in dusk, the stars above wheeled, stretching across the sky, flecks of silver on dark velvet. For some reason, the melody was stronger in a way, as though one particular instrument was louder than the rest. The rough bark bothered me no more than the soft breeze as I settled comfortably down, the strange Music drawing me in. I drifted to sleep cradled in the tree, surrounded by an almost familiar warmth.

_Almost like my sister's hugs..._

* * *

_Cerweth the twenty-seventh of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

The song had changed, an almost imperceptible shift of the melody as if a single instrument had started playing a half-note lower than all the rest. The difference had no obvious cause as I glanced around us, just the forest, sky, and the road. We had been traveling since morning and the song was still present.

As the sun made its way to the western horizon through the day, the clopping of Eba's hoof beats seemed less like the comforting, constant sound it was yesterday and more like a sharp insertion that didn't blend into the song well at all. I eventually dismissed both the change and the discordance as oddities; there but not terribly important.

_Not that having background music to one's life wasn't odd in and of itself._

There were hoof beats on the road ahead. It wasn't like thunder that such things were usually described as, just a clear rhythmic clopping. It was late afternoon, the sun far shifted to the west, still shinning.

Should I tell Gandalf?

What if they were bad, like robbers?

I sincerely doubted they would have any qualms what-so-ever concerning the young and old... Gathering myself I spoke, "Gandalf?" He peered down at me as I twisted to face him, his expression one of idle curiosity.

"Yes?"

"There are riders ahead of us... I think more than one." An odd look crossed his face for a moment before he responded.

"Riders? How do you know, Solreen?" His voice also had a strange quality to it, as if he had happened upon something utterly impossible. His oh-so-familiar blue eyes were fixed on me now.

"I can hear them… Can't you?" I asked somewhat hesitantly-could he not hear? They were getting closer by the moment, and thus, louder.

Gandalf eyes widened. He didn't speak for several moments. Then he stated in a quiet tone, "No, I cannot."

* * *

When they had stopped the previous night, Gandalf hadn't expected Solreen to sleep immediately; thus, he was unsurprised when she sat for a small while before climbing the closest tree. What had surprised him was when he had awoken to nothing more than the fire, the packs, and the mare.

_The child was nowhere in sight. _

After a moment he recalled that she hadn't come down before he had fallen asleep. No longer worried, he had lied back down and slept until morning.

Solreen had started acting oddly today. She had calmly braided as they rode, as usual, but her gaze was distant and her posture relaxed. Before today, she would at least turn her head every so often, drinking in their surroundings. Now, for the first time since they had met, she had slept in a tree, and was hearing things that there was no sign of. What was going on?

_It was then that he heard the hoof beats._

* * *

Elladan had not expected such luck. They had been sent by their father to find Mithrandir and ask for his aid in finding the other elfling. Sehnae had spoken of his twin sister, not much but there was enough to be sent on such a cause. Not that they wouldn't have tried looking for her anyway, but the chances at that point were so slim… He just hoped that the elfling was safe, until she was found.

Now, they had just found the man less than two weeks ride from Imladris. He rode a grey steed, plodding along the road. But something was off, even from this distance they could see that he was seated oddly. Their first thought was that he was injured, as unlikely as that was. They sped up slightly, whatever the cause it was likely important. Once they got closer, the cause of the wanderer's odd seat became obvious.

_There was a child. _

Cradled in front of the man, a young girl was staring at them with something near distrust. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly and her eyes watched him as if tracing his every movement. Unusually focused for what looked like a child of nearly five. Elladan glanced at his brother; his face showed no surprise, but it was evident in the tenseness of his shoulders.

Mithrandir spoke first.

"Hail Elladan, Elrohir. What brings you?" A faint smile appeared on Elrohir's lips, whether it was from their luck or some other reason, Elladan could only guess.

"To be truthful we have been sent to ask your aid in a matter. We were expecting to have to attempt to trace your wanderings. This meeting is truly fortunate." The man's bushy eyebrows raised in surprise at Elrohir's answer to his question.

Elladan continued, "Where are you traveling now, Mithrandir? If it is to Imladris, please let us accompany you." The Istari nodded briefly, before lowering his gaze to the child perched before him.

"That would be well."

* * *

My first thought when I could get a decent look at the pair was surprisingly un-jumbled. The impression was only magnified when they spoke. The only description besides tall, dark, and handsome was simply an aspect of _other._

_They were not human. _

That much was infinitely clear. In fact, due to my fondness for European folklore, the first words that my mind spat out were rather odd by many standards (read: non-nerd and/or history nut standards, with few exceptions).

_Fair Folk._

Dear Bright Lady, they were Fae. Schooling my face as much as I could, I peered at the front-most one. Like the other he had long, dark hair pulled back from his face with braids and the rest loose behind him. The pair was obviously twins; that was plain to see. They also carried weapons; I could spot a sword on each as they hardly tried to hide them. I had an inkling that they were carrying others as well.

Gandalf spoke in greeting to the pair, using what I assumed were their names. Well, at least they most likely wouldn't try to rob us blind. That was a relief, as I was less than completely sure that Gandalf could take the duo on in a fight.

...Especially with me to protect, after all what better hostage than a small child?

And no matter how strange he was, Gandalf was still human, the likelihood of him holding off Fae was quite slim...

Either way, I turned my wandering attention back to the conversation. They were now offering to accompany us to... Imladris? Was that Gandalf's intended destination? Gandalf looked down at me before the pair turned their horses to flank Eba on either side.

* * *

Elrohir was unsure as to what, but there was something different about the child riding with Mithrandir. The girl had watched them with the eyes of a hawk; Elladan mostly, but Elrohir had caught her gaze following him as well. She had been tense until Mithrandir had spoken in greeting and her eyes almost seemed to be sizing them up.

As if wondering if they were going to attack, and if they might be beaten...

Deep in thought as he was, Elrohir managed to reply when the man spoke in greeting; however, he left Elladan to continue the conversation. His thoughts were focused on the tiny girl with the too wary eyes.

He was surprised and slightly angry that the world was in such a state to make a child be so aware of violence. However, he drew some comfort in how the little one leaned into Mithrandir, a sign of trust he had observed from more reserved children. There still remained an oddness about her though, separate from his other observations. After he and Elladan pivoted their horses to walk aside Mithrandir's mare, Elrohir spoke again, "Who would this little one be?"

He leaned slightly in his seat to peer curiously at the child, a smile tugging at his mouth when he spied a doll tucked in the crook of a small arm. The girl looked at him for a moment but did not respond. Confused, he began to open his mouth to try and coax her out when Mithrandir spoke, suggesting that he speak to the child in his native tongue. Utterly surprised at the suggestion he complied, and was for some odd reason not surprised when the girl-child replied.

Of _course_, it was Mithrandir.

* * *

The Fae on our left leaned in towards me, speaking in a curious and-dare I say it?-_playful_ tone.

…But I couldn't understand him.

He waited expectantly for a long moment, before Gandalf turned away from the other Fae and clarified, "Elrohir, perhaps try Sindarin?" The male's eyes widened minutely, but he complied with the suggestion.

"Who would this little one be?" Little one? I may be slightly small, but still, only people I _liked_ could call me _little. _I decided to ignore the irritating word spoken by an unknown-if pretty-stranger and held up my doll, pausing before introducing her.

"This is Laer." He nodded remaining silent as if waiting for me to continue. Did he actually think I would include myself in his statement about size? Well, I wouldn't. I was quiet for a moment before continuing, "I am Solreen, but unlike Laer, I am not little."

The Fae smiled before he replied with a hint of humor in his voice, "I am Elrohir. My brother there is known as Elladan." He tilted his head towards the other Fae at the last bit.

The other Fae-Elladan, my mind supplied-spoke to Gandalf in a wholly unfamiliar tongue then, but I could sense a bit of a questioning tone in his voice. The Fae that had been talking to me before join in after his brother finished. When Gandalf replied, an undecipherable conversation began right above my head.

I mentally cursed myself for not knowing the language.

* * *

When Mithrandir had suggested that Elrohir speak to the child in Sindarin, Elladan had a fleeting thought, one that he dismissed as soon as it came. It persisted when the child replied, introducing her doll with a Sindarin name and yet again, when she revealed her name, also Sindarin. Waiting for Elrohir to finish what he was saying, Elladan then turned back to Mithrandir. He wanted to question the oddity of a child of man speaking the tongue of the Sindar so very well.

But the inquisition would be one a bit more private.

"Mithrandir, just where did you encounter this one?" The Istari's eyes nearly _twinkled_ as Elladan questioned him in the common tongue.

"Would you believe me if I told you, that she was sleeping in a tree near the Barrow Downs?" Surprise shot through Elladan at the words. What on Arda was a child doing there?

"She was alone?" Mithrandir merely nodded at Elladan's question, his face clouded.

"Might I ask where you two are traveling to?" Elrohir cut in.

"The very place you have in all likelihood just left, Imladris." In unison the brothers blinked, surprised at the Istari's answer.

"Why?" Inquired Elladan, and instead of replying immediately, Mithrandir merely tilted his head down slightly toward the child seated in front of him.

"I am almost entirely certain that she is of Dúnedain stock and as we found none near Bree, I was planning on asking Lord Elrond if she might reside there until one of her folk passes through."

"I see." Elladan heard his brother reply softly. The previous thought flitted through his mind once again, this time finding roots to latch on to.

_Could she be?_

Glancing at his twin, Elladan caught the look of understanding and dawning comprehension. Elrohir spoke first, voicing the answer they both came to, "She might."

* * *

Elrohir turned to the child. "Solreen," He said as he reached out toward her head, his hand pausing at her half hidden ear, "may I?" Wide eyes greeted Elrohir's gesture, before they turned to Mithrandir who nodded to the girl. She turned back to him; her gaze confused and yet underneath there was a sort of wariness. He continued his motion and pulled her black hair back from the ear.

It was no human ear.

With the distinct shape of an elven ear, almost leaf like in the curve and point. It was infinitely clear that she was nothing but elven. Shock swept through Elrohir as he held the elfling's hair back. He was frozen.

Oh, yes, he and Elladan had been searching for this child but that was no real preparation for finding her here. Here, less than two weeks away from Imladris, traveling with Mithrandir _to_ Imladris. Yes, they had suspected from the moment she spoke Sindarin but neither was that any real preparation.

Gathering his scattered wits Elrohir finally spoke as he pulled away after several moments of silence. He let her hair that had been loosened when he pulled it back fall, covering the revealing feature. "Elladan, we have no need to continue looking, at least not for now," seeing his brother's mouth gape just slightly, Elrohir turned to Mithrandir. It was obvious he had seen just exactly how wrong his theory of the child being one of Man was. His blue eyes were wide and Elrohir noticed that they were also just slightly unfocused, as if the Istari had been hit on the head with a bag of stones.

"We will discuss this further after we locate a place to set up camp for the night," his tone brooking absolutely no argument.

Silence reigned for quite a while as Elrohir pondered their discovery. It struck him as immensely unlikely that this would normally happen.

They could have passed each other at any point along the way.

Mithrandir might have headed in an entirely different direction.

They might have done the same had another rumor reached them as far as Mithrandir's general location.

_The odds had been stacked rather unfavorably._

Yet, here they were, escorting the second elfling in their memory-besides their younger sister and a wood-elf- to Imladris. He glanced at the tiny girl riding next to him with Mithrandir. Black hair, loose from the twist behind her head, covered part of her face, but blue eyes that seemed slightly familiar peered out at the world. He was reminded of a wary bird peering out, concealed amongst the foliage of a tree.

He would do everything in his power to make sure that this little bird would have no need to fear.

* * *

When Elrond's twin sons rode up moments after Solreen had said there were hoof beats-while he had not heard any at that time-Gandalf was thoroughly flabbergasted. How had the child heard them from so far? After calling out a greeting to the pair, he was even more surprised to find that they had intended on searching for him, presumably to ask either advice or aid.

Their curiosity in Solreen was expected, especially considering her name and the language she spoke, but the dawning look in Elrohir's eyes, matched by his brother's wide eyed gaze were odd. The next moments were as confusing as being trapped in a Dwarvish mine without light, map, or company. Elrohir had pulled Solreen's hair back from her ear-an action Gandalf had never even considered-to reveal a distinctive ear shape, one that no Dúnedain could possess.

Solreen was one of the Firstborn.

* * *

When Gandalf told me that I would be going with Elladan and Elrohir in the morning, I froze. The urges to protest, latch on to his robes, and refuse welled up. I didn't want to go. Would I see him again? Sure, he said that he would be following-just slower- but it was still a Goodbye.

_Grey hair traced with echoes of red._

Goodbyes could be permanent.

_Eyes closed as if sleeping._

I often wonder if those that had been knew that.

_A single moment's difference._

Shoving the creeping thoughts into the depth of my mind, I maintained an impassive face as the three around me waited for a response. I would not let myself show just how shaken I was. No one needed to know, Gandalf would feel guilty for what they all-obviously-saw as necessary. I just flat out didn't know-and therefore trust-the other two. No, I was fine. I was in no way shaken or a clingy little brat. There was nothing _to _know, nothing at all.

I was _Fine. _

"I understand. Goodnight." I stood as I spoke, heading to the nearest tree, I climbed as high as the branches would support me. Finding a welcoming branch, I curled around Aew and nestled into the trunk. Perched far away from all but the tree and the stars, I tried to sleep. The one thought I allowed myself was to wish for my formerly poor eyesight. Back at home whenever I was troubled at night, I would climb a tree in the backyard. Wrapped in a blanket and with my glasses taken off the world would become softer with the blurred darkness.

_Instead, I was stuck with the sharp lines of clear sight._

* * *

I dreamed for the first time since I had encountered Gandalf.

I stood on a rickety wooden dock jutting out into lapping lake water. It was morning; the sun bathed everything in warm, amber light. The air was crisp and chill, with the night not far gone. I stood at the very end of the dock, to the right slightly, as I looked out in the water. Peace pervaded the place, creating a surreal quality and a sense of being a mere observer. As I turned to view the rest of my surroundings I saw that I was not alone on the dock.

An elderly man with graying hair and a sharp jaw line held the hand of a little girl with black hair pulled into a simple ponytail. They were to my left and a bit back. I stood there, just looking at them for long moments. There was something oh, so _familiar_ about the pair as they looked out on the lake, or as my Grandpa would have said, the Tub-tub.

_A flash of pale blue._

The pair never once acknowledged or even seemed to notice my presence. Instead, they did as I had done before I realized their company; they merely stared out into the dark, mirroring, waters. The warm sunlight cast them in an almost other worldly light: beams of amber warmed skin, highlighted dark hair, and turned the two pairs of blue eyes into a deep color, vibrant and alive.

After what seemed both an eternity and a mere moment the man turned and tugged slightly on the girl's small hand, dwarfed by his. When he spoke his voice as affectionate and gentle, "Breakfast should be almost started by now. Let's go help your Grandma. We can come back to the Tub-tub after we eat." The child giggled and trotted after the man, as a smile lit up her face.

"Do you think that Mr. Blue Jay will want some waffles?" I could hear the man chuckle as the pair walked away.

"Let's leave those for your Grandma; a Birdie might like some syrup though, Laurie."

* * *

_Cerweth the twenty-eighth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

Morning dawned with a chill and the songs of birds. I ended up awake due to Gandalf calling me from below the branches. My mind blanked for a time, before I scrambled down. Remembering the previous day, I tried to locate the unfamiliar duo. Elladan was scattering the fire's ashes, while Elrohir was doing something with the darker horse's bags.

We were leaving.

And that meant saying Goodbye.

I looked up at Gandalf, trying to memorize him.

_Rough grey robes and cloak, all were different shades. _

_Coarse beard and hair only slightly smoother. _

_Old, blue eyes._

He set a hand on my shoulder and it took every ounce of stubbornness of my farmer roots not to turn and cling.

It wouldn't change a thing for the better.

Elrohir turned from his horse, striding over before crouching down at eye level. "Well, Little Bird, it is time to take leave, would you wish to ride with me?" I nodded, he had taken the effort to ask and if I was unable to choose Gandalf, at least I could choose. He then swept me up to rest like a toddler on his hip. As I looked back I saw Gandalf with a hand raised in parting, his face bore an unreadable expression.

* * *

We stopped for the night after traveling far, far faster than was even remotely possible for Eba. The horses were nibbling on greens a small distance from the fire as I settled down to sleep. Elrohir and Elladan stayed up near the flames conversing in incomprehensible low tones. I tried to sleep, I really did, but I was just too unsettled to do so. I knew that if I looked as if I was awake, one of them would try to get me back to sleep, so I merely waited.

They talked for a good few hours. When one finally shifted and scooted back a bit before bunking down, the other made no motion. He just sat by the fire, stiller than the sleeping horses. I waited even longer to move; when I did it was slow and cautious, not wanting to be followed.

_Cry fests were supposed to be private after all._

Padding a distance away from the light and warmth of the fire, and thus from the two Fae, I searched for a tree that would understand. The air was alive with energy as it is in the warmer months. The thing was, I wanted to be alone, not surrounded. Finally, I came upon a rather quiet aspen, it was smaller, but it reminded me of the towering aspen that had divided the fields behind the school near my aunt and uncle's house when I had lived with them. That solitary tree had been a refuge of forest and the plains of Iowa in the middle of a massive city. The one before me was a refuge of mellow clearness in a forest brimming with wild force.

Its branches were high, many times my reach. Instead I settled against the rough trunk clutching Aew, who silently watched me as I slowly let go. I was finally allowing myself to open the dam of emotion for the first time since I had come to this place.

_The first time since we fell in the river._

_...Since I had lost Honor._

That thought, if any was the most painful. Honor was the only person to stay. Everyone else had left in one way or another, but now, so had she.

_And it was my fault._

She was gone, because I wasn't fast enough, because she had tried to save me.

_Because of me._

I hated myself. My vision blurred and I realized that I had no right to cry. I tried to shut down again, to lock everything else away. If I didn't, I would cry. I had to, because I had no right to cry. I couldn't cry.

_Because it was my fault._

But I couldn't block the rest. The flood gates had been opened, the lake behind would empty. Selfish, old thoughts poured out.

_I want to go home._

Where was home?

Was it with my Parents? With the ones who had vanished in a moment buried by time?

Was it with my Aunt and Uncle? Who had never had children and hadn't planned on any?

Was it with Honor's Grandparents? People who hadn't planned on raising two more girls but had welcomed us? Maybe loved us?

_I didn't know._

I cried. My mind drew up every haunting thought, every memory. It was dredging the depths and pouring them out in a torrent. Names, moments, faces, scents, everything.

Dad...

_Black hair, coarse with curls brushed back from his face. Grey blue eyes, there were laugh lines at the corners. His wide jaw was shadowed with scruff, he hadn't shaved that day. He was laughing, a deep full laugh._

_Mom had turned his words back at him yet again._

_Her clear voice had tied him in a knot of his own logic. Her dark brown eyes glanced back at me from the mirror, hair matching the color of her eyes framing her face._

_The world twisted in blur of color and harsh sound._

_A soft cloud drifted across a gap of pale blue._

I shook with ragged breaths, only half aware of the world surrounding me. That day, that memory always echoed. The front of the old van had been crushed. My hands were white knuckled around Laer as I grasped for a lifeline. There was nothing left of them that I had, no memento to clutch. None of them, not one of them was here with me.

I'd lost them the moment I hit the water, everything but the necklace that matched Honor's and the copper chain from Zach.

_Gone._

And without them, I wondered, would my memory of what they stood for, of the people associated with them...

_Would those memories disappear too?_

_Mom and Dad._

_Grandpa and Grandma. _

_Uncle Bill._

_My cousins: Ben, Luke, and Natasha._

What would happen when I'd forgotten their faces, their voices,_ them_?

Who, _what_, would I be then?

I would force myself to remember them. I could not, would not forget. I would not let myself.

_Even if the remembering hurt._

* * *

Elrohir had offered to take first watch after he and Elladan had thoroughly discussed the child lying behind them. They had both come to the conclusion that despite his years and experience, Mithrandir had blundered rather largely. Also, they had both resolved to make sure that they didn't accidentally terrify this child. After all, as Elladan had said, they should be well aware of their own blunders. But now as Elrohir sat in front of the fire pondering the recent events, he heard movement from behind him. It was too far to the right to be Elladan, which only left Solreen.

He remained still, after all, she was likely just relieving herself. Arwen had done the same on many little 'camping trips' he and Elladan had taken her on in her younger years. He would merely wait for the little one to return. But, it had been far too long to such things, before he rose and set to follow the direction he had heard her footsteps go. As he walked he began to hear odd sounds from the forest ahead.

_Quiet, sporadic sounds._

He continued until amid the various trees he spotted a medium sized aspen, curled up at the roots was Solreen.

She was _crying_.

The sounds he had heard were, in fact, quiet, muffled sobs. The girl was sitting there, crying as if she had lost everything.

_Perhaps she had._

The thought was an unnerving one to say the least. No child should sound so entirely lost. No child should so utterly reject comfort from any around them when in pain. Solreen, he somehow knew, had left the camp for this solitary reason. No elfling should feel as if any of their kind wouldn't at the very least provide a shoulder to cry on.

But, from the scene before him, it was obvious that Solreen did. Elrohir approached her and gathered the child into his lap and arms. He held her, slowly petting her hair until her sobs had reduced into sniffles. "What troubles you, little one?" He inquired softly, and instead of replying, Solreen merely gripped tighter, shaking her head.

"Do you sorely miss someone?" He would not be surprised if the child had, so separated from kith and kin. At his words she seemed to shrink in on herself as she pressed into him. She replied so softly that had Elladan not possessed the keenness of elven hearing it would have been an unintelligible mumble, not the murmur he caught.

"Yes." He gazed down at the girl curled in his lap, the child was dwarfed by him, a small and frail wisp truly.

"Do you wish to speak of them? It may ease the hurt of their absence." Solreen loosened her grip, uncurling to sit cross-legged.

"Not really." Her voice answered quietly, but with a steady quality that told Elrohir that she had collected herself.

"May I inquire as to why?"

"Dwelling on the irreversible is pointless, despite that we all do it. As far as this sort of thing, I have a little cry once in awhile, and just keep moving on." Elrohir felt a jolt of surprise at Solreen's words. That one so young should have such a view! It was one that would require a great deal of inner strength to follow. It might have been less unusual for a child of many more years to utter such words, but Solreen was merely sixteen.

_She should not have been aware of the hurts of the world at this age._

"It may be better than weeping alone, child. At least there is someone to hold on to."

"Maybe." They stayed there for a while longer before Elrohir heard Solreen's breathing become deep and even with sleep. He shifted her in his arms before standing and carrying her quietly back to camp. It occurred to him that those words, may have been repeated, a quote from some figure in her past.

_Dwelling on the irreversible is pointless, despite that we all do it..._

He was unsure whether to curse or thank that one if it was true.

* * *

_Cerweth the thirty-first of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

It had been over three days since we had gone ahead of Gandalf. We had ridden just as quickly as we had the first day, covering what was as far as I could tell was miles and miles in that space of time. From the morning of the third day, after my little cry fest, it was plain to see a dark mass of clouds looming on the horizon. Elladan spoke the obvious from beside Elrohir and me, "There will be a rather large storm tonight."

I turned away from Laer to gaze at the clouds ahead. The day passed as we rode in the direction of those shadowy clouds. By the time we stopped for the night, the clouds were nearly above us. The air was thick and heavy with moisture. As I tried to help Elladan light the fire by gathering kindling from the area, a flash of pale blue flew between two trees to my left. The memory of my dream from the last night before the three of us had ridden ahead of Gandalf came to mind.

_Had that been a blue jay? _

I dismissed my curiosity, as I turned back to the tiny flame Elladan had sparked. It had been decided that we would shelter under the low boughs of a pine for the night. It would be the driest place conceivable for the time. As I helped prepare the campsite for the approaching weather, anticipation swelled up. I had always loved storms. The sheer energy that was present: the force of them whirling around you, pushing at you, tugging, calling. I almost always spent a decent amount of time in them.

_Dancing._

_Singing. _

_Soaking in everything. _

There is very little that is as simple, yet as complex and so very freeing, as standing amidst the tempest. Water droplets running down me and my hair plastered to my back as the winds call. It was a connection that ran deep and shallow, something that was in my veins.

Dropping the kindling next to Elladan's fire, I pulled myself from my mind's wanderings to feed the twigs, dead pine needles, and pinecones to the growing flames. Elladan and Elrohir were now tending to their horses on the other side of the pine. I might have gone over to help, but there was something odd. Sure the air was thick with the approaching storm, but there was also another layer. There was an energy that was deeper, older, and far, far wilder.

It seemed to be nearly everywhere, dancing among the branches and across the soft forest floor. It made the world seem brighter, older, and more alive all at once. I let myself drift along with the sweeping vibrancy as I stared into the warm glow of the fire. Its leaping tongues contrasted sharply against the falling darkness; its sparks floated upward fading before they reached the trees' branches.

Elladan and Elrohir came back from tending to the horses before settling down by the little blaze I had fed with kindling. We all ate some bread that they had brought and sat for a bit before Elladan decreed, "It is well past dusk and time for little ones to go to sleep." I looked up, had he really just said that?

_Yes, he had._

Still he was right, it was getting late and even just riding was horrible, if one had a headache from lack of sleep. "Yes Elladan," I replied as I stood, drawing away from the warmth to fetch my blanket. Settling down between the fire and the pine's trunk, I drifted off to sleep to the comforting crackle of burning wood.

* * *

_Urui_ _the first of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

I woke to the pounding of rain, the crack of thunder and the flash of pale light. The expected storm had arrived. I quietly got to my feet, not wanting to wake either Elladan or Elrohir. They might as well sleep, if they were asleep. If one of them was awake, then I just didn't want disturb them. The rain plummeted down to splash on the already saturated ground. Tiny rivers and pools had already formed in the spaces where the roots of trees did not raise the dirt slightly. I stepped from under the canopy into the downpour.

The rain was chilled despite the season as it splattered on me. The wind blew in gusts in every direction. I stood there, feeling as if I was not a mere observer, but a part of the tempest around me. There was a surging of feelings that were inexplicable, powerful, overwhelming, and wild. My world both narrowed and expanded as the branches of trees danced to the song of the winds. Unthinkingly, I began to whirl, leaping and dancing along. My body seemed half my own and half controlled by some unknown force.

There was the usual clumsiness, yes, but it was somehow blended with a wild knowledge of an ever-changing dance. My hair began to fall even looser from the tight bun that I had maintained. Dark strands flying with my movement, obscuring my sight or drifting back. I idly noted that my toes had gone numb and were slightly sore from the ground and the friction. Lightning flashed and the thunder roared; the winds tugged and pushed.

_And I danced. _

The storm was alive, a melding of forces producing a wild power. There was no drawing on such a thing; to connect was to be adrift, to be gathered into the convergence, to nearly be absorbed. It was to have oneself immersed.

_A Song joined the hectic, carefree dance. _

A jumble of meaningless syllables stung together, creating an echoing rhythm blending with the song created by the tempest. It was giving a wordless voice to the energy present all around. Even once my limbs felt heavy and I had to take heaving breaths, I still stood there, surrounded by the forces of nature.

I reveled in the forest, in the cooling rain, in the swirling gales, and in the feeling of decaying leaves and pine needles mixed with dirt and water at my feet. The feeling of my clothes plastered to my skin and in the song that had seemed to meld with my very being.

_I felt truly alive._

After I had stood for a few moments, I became aware of Elladan watching me from under the conifer where we had been sleeping. I shrugged off any sheepishness at my utterly nonsensical behavior-at least in the eyes of others. I made my way back the shelter of the pine boughs, still half dazed and my heart amongst the swirling winds and rain.

Elladan made no comment until I was back under the warm blanket, drying by the fire, "While you may enjoy the storm, do inform those who care of your whereabouts next time."

As my mind wandered to the relms of sleep, a fleeting wonder at his words sparked. He-they-cared? Despite our extremely short acquaintance?

_Why?_

My thoughts drifted then, floating on the waves of the storm's song into the sea of sleep...

* * *

_Urui_ _the sixth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

It had been five days since the storm. The last day had passed among the vibrant green forest floor, blue skies, and a wind that played gently with a person's hair. As evening neared, both Elladan and Elrohir urged the horses to quicken their trot. The fading amber light made the forest nearly luminescent, glowing through the greenery. It warmed the bark of the trees, reflected off the white stones that were seemingly random in their presence.

We were climbing a gentle slope that I could see crested not too far ahead. As we neared the edge, Elladan and Elrohir turned the horses to the right, so that we went alongside the precipice. Curious, I lowered my gaze from the heights of the other side.

The sight below was one that enshrined itself in my memory, to be recalled in the greatest detail, one that was to be treasured.

It was literally breathtaking. Regal buildings, far too elegant to be made by any ordinary hand blended with the flora, the naturalness around them. There were graceful arches, elaborate designs, ancient trees and stone paths, the only parts that were the simplest to explain. There was an air about the place that soothed a person; it seemed to glow in the light of the Lady, a silver-blue aura of peace.

_A different sort of Terabithia. _

I could not tear my gaze away, it was beautiful, in a strong, diaphanous way that very few things can be. I was more than breathless.

I was speechless.

Eventually, we turned a bend the path lead to an arching bridge, as we crossed it Elladan spoke, "Be welcome to Imaldris, Solreen." We passed across the bridge and came to a stable, within were many fine horses. Another fae-elf-took the horses from both Elladan and Elrohir. We walked amongst the fair buildings before we entered one, a maze of halls where it would be all too simple for one who was unfamiliar to lose their way.

We came to a wooden door, heavy and dark, but lovingly carved and polished. Elladan rapped a knuckle once upon the well tended work of art. Almost immediately an answer came, deep and light, but of simple words-one word really. "Enter."

And so we did.

Inside amongst shelves, some small tables, and stacks of paper was a simple oaken desk, well cared for, but worn with age. It looked an heirloom from centuries ago. Behind the desk was a man-fae, yes-with long, dark hair tat neat if rather loose. He was certainly older than either Elladan or Elrohir, enough their elder to be their father. A thought that he might be just that wove through the branches of thought as I took notice of how closely they resembled one another.

His hair seemed like an echo of something familiar, but different. So very different, straighter than should be, longer, not as coarse.

_Not as coarse as what?_

_Thick, black hair._

_Combed out curls. _

_It had been kept in a little plastic zipbag._

No, even if he reminded me of my own father, I would be wary. It wasn't like I had never misplaced trust because I was reminded of someone dear, better to not immediately trust.

As we entered, I almost thought that I caught a flicker of surprise, he didn't seem to have taken notice of me. Why was he surprised so to see Elladan and Elrohir? I recalled the words spoken to Gandalf upon meeting the pair. Was it because he had not expected Elladan and Elrohir back by now? "Elladan, Elrohir, I had not expected your return for many days. Is there something amiss, my sons?"

So I had hit the mark, on two counts.

Elladan replied, his voice betraying a smile, "Nay, Father. Merely that we meet upon great fortune on the road. Mithrandir approaches even now, and our task we belive finished." The man's eyebrows rose high and his eyes widened slightly, but other than that he remained collected.

"Finished? For good or ill?" His voice seemed at ease, as though he already knew what the reply would be.

It was Elrohir who replied now, "For good. Child, come, this is our Father, Elrond." As he spoke Elrohir turned slightly, laying a gentle hand on my back to urge me forward from the shadow of him.

Elrond's face softened before he spoke, "Little one, what is your name?"

"Solreen."

"Could you tell me how my sons came to find you with Mithrandir? Or, Gandalf as you may know him." His tone was level with some curiosity, but his forehead was knit slightly, and the corners of his mouth were dipped. His eyes met mine.

_Why did he want to know?_

I shook my head, hoping to avoid what might turn into some sort of interrogation. Elrohir and Elladan might be kind and trustworthy for longer than a journey, but their father was less sure. He might seem familiar, and was related to the twins, but... I turned back to Elrohir and buried my self into his tunic. This Elrond was... I couldn't really read him as far as thoughts go, there was a fathomless quality about him.

He scared me.

Not in the large person with a weapon way, no. His eyes had been smooth grey, like a wind weathered bluff, but there had been the strength of the solid rock that made the bluff. Ancient, powerful, covered in the soft soil atop a cliff. Yes, Elrond was terrifying. But, I realized then there was another bluff that I knew, Gandalf. I clutched at the rough tunic even more, now straining to hear the disscusion above my head between the three.

"I may question Mithrandir of circumstances when he arrives. It is late now, and if you are correct then the reunion should be sooner rather than later." I heard Elladan reply to Elrond then.

"Very well, I shall return soon." What reunion was he talking about? Where was Elladan going?

_It was then that my heart truly began to hope._

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

**Translation: ***Cerweth means July.

*****Urui means August.

*Laer ~ Summit

*Mithrandir ~ Grey Wanderer

*Istari ~ Wizard

**Explanations: **

*****The Music, obviously you must be wondering what this "song" Solreen is hearing is. What she is hearing is the Song of the Trees, a song that all elves have the potential to hear, but usually it is only the Sindar elves (more commonly known as wood-elves) who hear it. I believe that I had read some where that the Sindar elves (more specifically the ones in Mirkwood, but any wood-elf could suffice) have become more in tuned to the forest and came even hear the trees speak. Legolas demonstrates this in the Fangorn forest when he is describing the (angry) thoughts of the trees.

I have decided that the extent that it affects the elves may vary:

Low Sensitivity, the third level ~ They can tell the tree is alive and feel only the most powerful of emtions. Hobbits, men, dwarves and most elves can sense this.

Average Sensitivity, the second level ~ They can only gain vague emotions and moods off of the trees. This is the highest extent that most elves who are not Sindar on some level can sense.

High Sensitivity, the first level~They could hear music, emotions, and, once in a while, an almost-thought from the trees. Most Sindar on some level can sense this.

A Sensitive ~A rare level of sensitivity. They are so sensitive, that they can't actually hear a song most of the time, but rather, they can hear and feel the vibrations of the life essence from the tree that make the song.

Native ~ An offensive term that ignorant elves use to describe the Sindar. To "go Native," "being Native," or to have "gone Native" mean that an has succumbed or is succumbing to an illness that is unique amongst elves. _This illness is purely a result of my more creative thoughts and is not cannon (that I know of)._ There will be more about this "going Native" later on in the story. And, before you can ask, _yes, there have been _cannon_ cases of elves being racist about other elves._

*The term Firstborn is in reference to the fact that the elves were found/made first. Both elves and men are also called the "Children of Ilúvatar," since they were made by Him directly. Elves seemingly bear the closest likeness of Him.

*The words Fae and Fair Folk are just other ways to describe elves and fairies. Mythical creatures that can, if they want to, appear to be human, however they will all hold a unnamable quality that will mark them as anything _but_ human.

**Advertisement:**

**TITLE: **The Skipper

**AUTHOR:** LinzRW

**ID: **8836050

**SUMMARY:** Ana has spent her life Skipping between this world and Middle Earth. From running away from clumsy balrogs to adoring majestic Thorin, from making fun of pretty boy elves to being sacrificed to a dragon, from weddings with dwarf bridesmaids to drinking parties with an elvenking and his moose, Ana's life is a mess. Either that or she's just going insane.

**OPINION: **I was doubtful of the story at first, but then it turned into an amazing story of epic proportions. I am SO glad that I gave it a chance. Thorana all the way! :)

**Thought Process:** I'm sorry for the long wait. I was sick with a stomach bug and could not get off the couch without intense chills, stomach pain, and nausea. Kiley, my lovely sister/co-author, was unable to publish her chapter here, because I was unable to beta-read it. Painful stuff there, people. Please remember to wash your hands with soap, so that you won't catch what I had, just warning you.

Some of you are probably wondering about the whole storm lasting two days and if we are losing our touch with the dates...

I assure you, we are not.

August the First has a great deal of significance in Laura's [Solreen's] religion. So therefore, we had to make the storm last at least for four hours. We are assuming four hours, because we are guessing that the storm started sometime around ten at night in Imladris on the Thirty-first and took four hours to reach where the twins and Laura was camping at one in morning on August First.

This is our work showing how this is possible.

The distance between Bree and Imladris is 370 miles,respectively and it takes about fifteen days for most people to reach their destination to Imladris on average. Laura and Gandalf rode on Eba, a very old mare, for about five days before they meet the twins, and were traveling an average of about ten miles a day.

5 X 10 = 50 and 370 - 50 = 320.

The twins escort Gandalf and Solreen for one day, traveling at Eba's slow pace of ten miles a day.

320 - 10 = 310.

That leaves 310 miles until Imladris for the twins to travel with Solreen. Now we needed to find there average speed until they arrived on the Sixth.

15 - 6 = 9 and 310 / 9 = 34.5

Now we know that the twins and Solreen traveled at an average 34.5 miles a day, which isn't too far fetched for an elvish horse, who have a higher endurance and swiftness than regular horses. They had traveled for three days before the storm reached them.

34.5 X 3 = 103.5 and 310 - 103.5 = 206.5

Now we know that they are 206.5 miles away from Imladris. So we need to see have fast the storm must travel to reach them from Imladris.

206.5 / 4 = 51.625

Severe thunderstorms have been know to have speeds anywhere between fifty to sixty miles an hour. Since it traveled at 51.625 miles per hour, I would say that we are good.

Now you reader are probably wondering why I put this in the thought process section instead of the explanations section. The reason is quite simple... I am showing the whole thought process put into find the speed of the storm and if it was possible for it to start on the Thirty-first and end the next day on the First.

Math problems aside, did anyone guess Laura's religion yet?

How do you feel about Laura?

Does scary-ness seem to run through Elrond's family?

Only through the males?

Females too?

Will Honor Rae/Sehnae finally reunite with Laura/Solreen?

Will Honor Rae finally knock some sense into Laura as well as learn exactly what happened to them both?

Will all the elves FINALLY realize that their little Sehnae is actually a GIRL?

More importantly-

JUST WHERE ARE ALL THE OLD PEOPLE BEING HIDDEN IN IMLADRIS?!

Send us your thoughts and guesses. We will respond and answer your through a PM or in the next chapter if you do not have an account.

Also feel free to send us ideas for some antics the elfling twins, Sehnae and Solreen, could get up to, or just random situations you want to happen. Please keep it rated G to PG-13. Remember they are in the bodies of as well as are only children, nothing too inappropriate. If we use your ideas, you will be given your due credit as well as a cameo appearance of your choice.

Happy Easter/April fools!

_Date Submitted: Saturday, March 30, 2013._


	15. Erestor is like a burnt marshmallow

_**IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS! PLEASE READ THE THOUGHT PROCESSES SECTION!**_

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**All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.**

_**Disclaimer: All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**_

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_Cerweth the Thirty-first of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

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Glorfindel woke up to feel a weight on his chest. It wasn't impairing his breathing nor was it uncomfortable, but rather, it was warm and pleasant. Smiling, Glorfindel gently put his hand on top of the elfling's head and stroked it, loving the feel of the child's soft hair between his fingers. He took in a deep breath before slowly letting it out, feeling more relaxed and at peace than he had felt for a long while. Is this was Elrond had felt all those times when he had held a sleeping child or two?

_No wonder why Elrond was always telling him that he should settle down sometime and start a family of his own._

And maybe someday he would, if he found the right one for him, but right now Glorfindel was content with the elfling snoozing beside him. Simple pleasures, Glorfindel supposed. He turned his head to look outside the window through the curtains. The sun was starting to shyly peek over the horizon of trees and distant hills. He could let Sehnae sleep for a bit longer, the day was still early yet.

When Sehnae woke up, however, Glorfindel would have to break the news to the child that he had to do a check up on the border guards. Glorfindel would rather not have to do that, especially during this delicate time when Sehnae was getting used to being around his own kin. However, some things just cannot be helped.

This being one of them.

Glorfindel was technically the seneschal of Elrond's home, of Imladris actually, although he mainly served as the Captain of the Guards. Erestor was the one who took over the domestic duties, celebration planning, and counseling while Elrond was away, as well as other duties of being a Chief Advisor. It was not that Glorfindel was lazy, far from it; it was just that Erestor was better at that sort of thing and he would never let Glorfindel forget it, either.

Technically, both he and Erestor were of the same rank, title-wise, that is. Although Glorfindel wished to forget this not-so-little fact about himself, he was also the reincarnation of the High-King Gil-Galad. Which would theoretically make him Elrond's superior, which was the last thing he wanted. Glorfindel had enough of that, of all of it, he liked having someone telling him what to do for once. It was fine leading warriors and sometimes giving his advice and council, but it was really nice having another person make the final decisions.

It was like he was being "Glorfindel: Chief of the House of the Golden Flower," all over again, but not something so ostentatious. He was just "Glorfindel of Imladris: Captain of the Guards, Seneschal to Lord Elrond, and sometimes Drinking-Buddy of Erestor's." He stifled a laugh, although Erestor was loathe to admit it, he enjoyed merry-making as much as any other elf. He just liked to keep to himself and disliked opening up too much, because he felt it left him too vulnerable.

A drunk Erestor was not as big of a "stick-in-the-mud" as he usually was when he was sober. In fact, Erestor had done some pretty outrageously funny things. Like that one time when he was as smashed as he was after drinking some of the strong elvish wine that Thranduil brought with himself one year.

(How any elf that wasn't from Mirkwood could last beyond a few glass of that drink, Glorfindel would never know.)

What had happened was that Rydre irritated Erestor one too many times with poorly written report, making more work for Erestor to fill in the blanks when he was already over taxed as it was. When Erestor had finally finished the more pressing and urgent paperwork, Glorfindel had kidnapped his friend to help him relax as well as get mind-numbingly drunk from the good wine. For it was one of those once in a millennium type of events, Thranduil had visited Imladris to, in a word, _show-off_ his son, once Legolas was old enough to travel.

Thranduil and Elrond were both old friends and rivals. They were much like Erestor and Glorfindel, both pairs of friends having a sort of love-hate relationship. Always making jibes or jokes at the others expense and teasing each other unrelentingly, but when push came to shove, you would be hard pressed to find more loyal friends than them.

Of course, this rivalry did not extend to their wives. They were closer than a sword and a scabbard, in fact, they liked to meet up with each other close to the same time their husbands had to see each other to make sure their respective husbands stayed in line. They were delighted to find that the other was with child, or more accurately, that Lindîn had a son and that Celebrían would soon have her third child. They were as pleased as-what was that word Sehnae had used? Oh, yes-punch. Although, Glorfindel had no idea _why_ any one would be _pleased_ about being _punched_.

What Glorfindel remembered happening was that Elrond had ordered him to stay near by for the first few rounds, because Glorfindel had been mercilessly teasing Elrond all day about this. Glorfindel believed the half-elf's exact words were, "That is _it_, Glorfindel! If I am going to have to suffer even_ half_ as much as you claim I will, then _you will suffer with me_ through out the whole ordeal!"

Of course when Elrond had found out about Erestor's terrible mood later on, he amended it to Glorfindel having to stay for the first few rounds, because after both Elrond and Thranduil had a few drinks they both tended to forget their rivalry fairly quickly. The rivalry's origin began in Lindon, according to Lindîn, Thranduil's friend at that time frame. Thranduil, Elrond, and Elros all got along quite well with each other, doing much bonding time together and, as Lindîn put it, "elf-princely" activities.

The trouble started happening When all three of them had their first drinks of elvish wine. Thranduil's mother had always made it expressly clear that Thranduil was not allowed to have one sip until he reached his majority, but with the War of the Wrath happening not too long after reaching said majority, Thranduil had not had the chance. Elrond and Elros had never tried the wine yet either and all three had the bright idea that now would be a good time to try some.

Since neither the twins nor Thranduil had ever tried elvish wine-or any wine for that matter!-before, they had little to no alcohol tolerance compared to the other elves. a little over two glasses of the drink was enough for them to be completely intoxicated. Lindîn had no recollection what-so-ever of who started it exactly, but one of the twins dipped the ends of Thranduil's hair in black ink. Thranduil had laughed at first before he exacted his revenge-on the wrong twin!

_Glorfindel suspected that this was because Thranduil's aim, depth perception, and judgement were hindered-or nonexistent-in that point in time._

Anyway, Thranduil dumped red ink all over the poor elf's head and since that elf's back was turned, he didn't know who did it exactly. that elf blamed his twin who was laughing at him and dumped dark blue ink over that elf's head. things quickly escalated from there and by the time the trio stopped fighting and passed out, there was not a single, clean patch of hair on their heads. their hair was stained for a long period of time, close to three months, before it finally started to fade.

Their hair may not have made it, but at least their faces were spared, because Lindîn thoughtfully cleaned them of. She wasn't able to do much to the hair, so she merely left it be. All three elves blamed one another and didn't trust each since they could not remember the night before. The twins were at odds for a few weeks before they came to an a agreement of some sort which Lindîn was not privy to. Their respective hair colors were: copper hair for twin one, dark black head with a sheen of purple for twin two, and inky black hair for Thranduil.

"This," Lindîn had told Glorfindel, "had to be one of the stupidest thing I had seen them do. It was not at bad as the time they jumped of the cliff side and into the sea to prove themselves to the elf-maidens and to gain some manly pride. Granted they were all drunk at the time, but sometimes stupidity is stupidity, drunk or other wise."

Legolas was a little over two-years old at the time and he had a tendency to walk around like a drunken man if he was set on the ground. He was not quite used to walking and had yet to gain any sense of balance. Legolas was a great source of amusement whenever Lindîn or Thranduil briefly set him down as he wandered around, ran into things, and then rebounded with a vaguely confused look.

Hulian had dryly observed this, saying that, "Prince Legolas might not be the sharpest shooter in the woods, if you know what I mean."

Thranduil, who was on his second glass by now, turned around and looked sharply at Hulian, "And what _do_ you mean by that?"

Hulian quickly tried to dislodge the foot he had put in his mouth, "I simply meant that he does not have the greatest coordination and since he is continuously running into things...well..." The stable master trailed off, letting the Elf-king fill in the blanks. Thranduil's eyes widened and he ran after his son, trying to keep up with the elfling's wobbly but swift legs. Elrond, who was just finishing his first glass at this point, had allowed himself to let out a snicker.

Glorfindel had mildly chided him saying, "That was you, Elrond, not too long ago and that _will_ be you again in about one year's time. I would not be laughing."

Elrond glowered at him saying, "Why is it that I happen to remember you laughing like a fool when I was chasing after the twins when they were no old than Legolas?"

Glorfindel smiled, "That was because I _was_ laughing, not like a fool, but I was laughing."

"Yes, for he cannot be laughing _like _a fool, if he _is_ a fool." Erestor grumbled, downing his third glass. Now it was Elrond's turn to smile while Glorfindel glowered at Erestor.

"Do not force me to take away your wine, Dear Erestor." Glorfindel mock-scowled. Erestor just muttered quietly to himself as he slowly sipped his fourth glass. By this point a breathless Thranduil returned. "Where is your son, Thranduil?"

"With my wife in the chair over yonder." Thranduil gestured towards them with his hand. The three elf-lords looked in that direction and found the pair sitting by the fire and staring off into space. Lindîn was vaguely looking into the general direction of the fire while Legolas was transfixed by the shining and sparkling stained glass windows.

"He reminds me most strongly of you, Thranduil." Elrond said with a smirk.

"How is that, Elrond?" Thranduil asked warily.

"You are both so easily entertained and entranced by all things that glitter."

"I resent that statement," Thranduil huffed.

"Actually," Erestor said."Young Legolas most reminds me of Lindîn." All the elves looked over again at the pair sitting by the fire, taking in their identical, absent-minded expressions.

"I think you maybe be right on that account," Thranduil agreed with a smile. "That is one of the traits that makes them so endearing to me." The group continued to slowly drink their way through their respectively numerous glasses of wine. One of the last things Glorfindel remembered before leaving to go find Erestor, was regaling the old times with Elrond while Thranduil listened with half an ear. Erestor left about half-way through the fourth consecutive story to go tail Rydre, who had drunkenly stumbled out of the Hall of Fire.

After a few more stories and more than a few more glasses of wine, Elrond and Thranduil were snickering to themselves about nothing in particular, with the half-elf leaning heavily on the elf-king. Glorfindel had been on his seventh glass of wine, while Elrond and and Thranduil had been on their thirteenth and seventeenth glasses respectively. The Balrog-slayer considered the pair to be ample enough friendly for him to take his leave and to try to make sure that Erestor didn't start another kin-slaying starting with Rydre.

Glorfindel had managed to track Erestor down with only a few instances of running into trees on his part. Erestor was in a rather...compromising situation with Rydre. He was dragging Rydre's unconscious body towards the river. "Erestor... What _are _you doing?"

Erestor straightened up, swaying side to side, completely intoxicated. "I, _my dear friend_, am taking this here elf to the river." Erestor gave a snickering laugh and went back to dragging Rydre.

"...Why?"

"To avenge myself." Erestor almost sang.

"How are you going to do that?"

"...You are not very smart. I am taking him to the river."

"Yes, but what are you going to do once you get him there?"

"Take off all his clothes and run away with them."

"..." Glorfindel could not find a proper response to that statement other than, "Do you want any help?"

"...Grab his feet." How they were able to drag Rydre all the way down to the river and _not_ _be seen_, Glorfindel would never know. They certainly were not very quiet or particularly sneaky, but maybe it was for the best. They would have had a hard time trying to explain that one.

Of course, the next day Erestor remembered nothing of the night before and denied having any hand in it.

Glorfindel full-out grinned at the thought and managed to successfully stifle any laughter that tried to escape so he did not wake up Sehnae. However, it would probably be best if he did wake up the elfling though; that is, if they wanted to have anything to eat this morning.

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Glorfindel and I arrived at the dining hall rather late today, because Glorfindel had let me sleep in. There wasn't a whole lot left to choose from in the way of breakfast. We had oatmeal, bread with jam, and some fruit. Glorfindel had a sweet-smelling wine with his meal while I had some milk. Glorfindel seemed somewhat distracted the whole time, he only seemed to be listening to his friends and El-what's-his-face with only half an ear.

Maybe it had something to do with his job? I didn't know exactly what it was, but I knew that Glorfindel was considered very important within elvish society. He seemed like El-what's-his-face's right hand man. I wonder what the second-in-command for a Mayor-elf is? An advisor? The funny thing is, I can't picture Glorfindel doing a white-collar job. For sure he is smart enough, that much is certain, but I don't think he would be able to sit still long enough. I mean, people don't get that muscular being a paper-pusher.

The image of Glorfindel weight-lifting huge stacks of printer paper filled my mind and I choked on my milk, sputtering into my cup. El-something-or-other looked at me strangely, before asking if I was all right. I managed to squeak out a 'yes' and then went back to coughing and laughing at the same time. When I had managed to calm down again, I saw that Glorfindel hadn't noticed my near death-by-laughter.

I had no idea if I should be worried or relieved.

It wasn't until after we went back to his home and I finished gathering my things for another day working with Erestor that I found out exactly _why_ Glorfindel was being such a space cadet today. "Sehnae," Glorfindel said out of the blue as I finished putting the last book in a small sack. "I have something to tell you."

'Uh oh,' I thought, 'He's got the serious voice. I haven't heard that voice since I got _The Talk_. Please don't tell me Glorfindel is going to attempt to give _The Talk_ to a four/five/_something in the single digits_-year-old? That would be just bizarre.' I went to go stand next to him, patiently waiting for him to collect his thoughts, and hoping against hope that he would not, I repeat, _would not _give me _The Talk_.

"Sehnae, I will be leaving later today. I must leave to go on a quick patrol around Imladris's borders. It will not be as long a journey as it was for the hunt, which lasted some months. I will only be gone for a couple of weeks, I can promise you that much. However," Glorfindel paused for a moment, looking off to the side. He seemed to be debating with himself over something before he came to a conclusion; when he did, Glorfindel stared straight into my eyes and locked onto them. "...There is something you must promise me."

"Yes?"

"I will not be here to make sure you do not do anything dangerous." Glorfindel started, absentmindedly rubbing his left index finger with his right thumb. "You must be good while I am gone." He sounded so stern and looked so worried, as though I might have been intimidated by his no-nonsense orders. Glorfindel should know that I am made of harder stuff than that, the worry-wart. I gave him a tight hug, for no other reason besides that he looked like he needed one.

"You do not need to worry, I promise to be good." Glorfindel let out a short laugh.

"What makes you think that I am worried?" Glorfindel's voice rumbled against me and I didn't have the heart to tell him that he was so easy to read with his nervous habit. "I know you must be the best behaved elfling I have ever met." He returned my hug full-force and I was overwhelmed by the emotions that were coming off of him. I could feel his affection just as strongly as I had felt his worry and insistence that one time during the hunt. This time the emotions were so much _more_. Surprised, I let out a squeak.

"I am sorry, did I hurt you?" Glorfindel loosened his grip slightly.

"No, you are just so... intense, but it is nice. I like it."

"Er, come again?" Glorfindel asked baffled.

"I can feel what you are feeling right now and how much you care. Just like last night when I was so scared and you were there for me." His eyes widened as he looked down at me while I clung to him. I plowed forward, unwilling to stop, because if I did, I might not have been able to start again. "You feel so big and fierce and gentle all at the same time. It is really nice. Not many people have cared for me like that before... I could number them all off on one hand..." I faltered, unable to continue.

Glorfindel's fingers started carding through my hair and after giving me a tender smile, he knelt down to my height. "I want you to do me a favor, Sehnae."

"Anything, 'Findel." Came my instant reply.

"My friend, Lord Elrond, will be caring for you in my stead until I return from my patrol. He has had three children of his own, all of them are now grown up. However, none of those children are quite like you; will you be patient with him and his...ignorance on how independently dependent you are?"

I had no clue on what he meant by "independently dependent" or who this "Lord Elrond" character was. Although, I had to admit, Lord Elrond's name sounded _very _familiar. Like I had met him before, which wasn't likely, because I was quite sure I would remember a Friend-of-Glorfindel's name. Glorfindel was waiting for my answer, so even though I was still confused and did not understand completely what I was promising myself to, I said, "I promise, 'Findel."

"Good." He brushed my cheek with the back of his hand and I reflexively twitched backwards in surprise, squinching my eyes shut. I felt him freeze and I forced myself to relax, completely embarrassed at my reaction. I opened my eyes and looked down at my feet, mortified that I had thought for even a moment that he would- that _Glorfindel _would-

'Stop, don't think about it anymore.' I wrenched my eyes off the floor and made them look at Glorfindel. He was looking off to the side gritting his teeth like he was upset with something. My heart plummeted, I completely wrecked everything. The air was stiff and tense between us; this brought a whole new meaning to the phrase 'Awkward Turtle.' I needed to make up for my complete faux pas.

Reaching out, I touched his forearm and waited for him to look at me. When he did, I offered him a tentative smile and when he gave a small one back, I grinned widely. Glorfindel didn't ruffle my hair or pat my shoulder when he stood up as he usually would have, but the air wasn't as uncomfortable as it was, at least. Glorfindel picked up his boots by the door, put them on, and waited patiently while I put my hand on his thigh as I put boots on myself. "Are you finished? Then let us go to the library, Erestor is waiting for you. He has agreed to care for you this afternoon until Lord Elrond comes to take over a little before dinner."

I felt hurt when Glorfindel didn't take my hand like he usually did when we were walking somewhere together. He had started this nice habit not too long after he became my guardian. 'Why did I have to flinch!? Stupid, stupid, stupid Honor Rae!' I inwardly cursed myself. After a moment's deliberation, I took the initiative of taking Glorfindel's hand in my own. I waited for him to wrench his hand out of my grip or something, but he gently tightened his grip on it instead. Feeling gratified, I let a smile cross my face as we walked down the path that led to Imladris's library and current lair of the scribes and advisors.

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Glorfindel had dropped me off at the library and left with Cael and Ruean, both of whom I haven't seen since the hunt. Cael worked in the stables too, but he worked with Hulian in the lesser stables. Ruean apparently works with glass in the workshop near the blacksmith forges with the other glass, pottery, and clay art makers. I had no idea where that was so when I asked Erestor, I was gratified to find that it was along the river close to the back entrance (close meaning a few minutes' walk).

I made a mental note to myself that as soon as I had the time, I would visit that area. Of course, knowing me, I forgot the mental note soon after. Seriously, what's the use of a mental note if you are only going to forget it?

I thoroughly enjoyed the notion of being able to spend the whole afternoon with Erestor, who in this point in time, I had adopted as my substitute-sister-figure... Regardless of him being a male, he was the closest person I had of my sister. So, he was Laura's very, _very_ temporary replacement until I could find my _real_ sister. Of course, I would never tell him this. Something tells me that Erestor would not be impressed with this arrangement.

As soon as I walked in, I sought out Erestor in his office, knowing that he would appreciate this gesture. He didn't look up from the parchment he was writing on nor did he even acknowledge my existence, but he knew I was there, he was just busy at the moment. I had learned over the time of my stay in Imladris, that elvish hearing was _amazing_. I had never been able to hear this well in my whole life until now. I would probably never tell anyone this though, because, at the moment, camouflage was everything. On top of that, the grown-up elves' hearing was even better than mine, apparently they had "centuries" to hone and improve it.

I just took it that they had a long time to practice, because by my calculations, elves can live up to approximately 225 years, best case scenario. That would be the same as a human living to the age of ninety, if Glorfindel really was serious about the whole "aging one year for every two and a half years." I don't know about you, but I heard that it is a pretty hard thing to do, live to around ninety, that is.

Speaking of people living until they are around ninety, I still have yet to find where all the old people are kept! I am sure that it is still possible that I just haven't explored that place of Imladris yet, but you would think that they wouldn't segregate themselves from the people who had barely started to get a gray-hair or two. I was starting to see what Siddhartha Gautama's, otherwise known as Buddha, life in the three palaces was like. I had yet to see someone who was sick, old, or dead yet. Not that I wanted to see a dead person, but you know what I am driving at.

I was very disturbed by these realizations, but what could I do about them? Everything was so topsy-turvy in this strange yet beautiful wonderland.

Erestor had finished his writing. "So, you actually managed to survive the walk here." Erestor noted dryly before adding,"It was quite a storm last night, so I thought you might be sleeping in." I froze and stared at him, bewildered.

He knew.

'How did he find out about my trouble sleeping? I thought I was doing an okay job of hiding it, too!' I thought frantically to myself.

_Just like you thought you were being subtle avoiding the elven ladies. Let's face it, Erestor is more like your sister than you originally gave him credit for. They are both too perceptive for their own good when it concerns you. _A voice whispered in the back of my head.

'It doesn't matter how he found out! What matters is finding out how I am going to answer him!'

_You could just tell him the truth._ The feminine voice suggested frankly.

'...That could work.' I mentally kicked myself for being such a spaz. I always lost my head when it came to personal matters concerning myself, that was a flaw that I seriously needed to fix as soon as humanly possible. "I was scared at first, but Glorfindel helped me fall asleep... How did you know?"

"You have been developing the habit of going into a half-awake and half-asleep daze while reading in your chair the past few days. Also, if you are idle for too long your eyes start to glaze over in sleep. However, the most obvious sign of your lack of sleep is the circles under your eyes. Do not panic, they are only very slight and you must be very observant and look very closely to see them." I blushed and looked down at my toes; I didn't mean to fall asleep on the job. It just sort of...happened.

"I am sorry. I sometimes have trouble falling or staying asleep. It makes me very tired during the day."

"You are suffering from nightmares?" I winced, once again, Erestor hit too close to home for comfort. I couldn't fool him, but I wouldn't admit to anything. I looked anywhere but him, however, it turned out I wouldn't have to, admit to anything that is. "So, I am correct then? I am guessing these nightmares have something to do with your sister and your...human family?" I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and bit my lip at the mention of Laura.

_Oh, Laura. I am_ so_ sorry._

Erestor studied my downcast expression, "I cannot say that she is alive, for that would be a very hard feat to accomplish. However, I also cannot say she is dead either. The twins, Elladan and Elrohir, are looking for an old friend called Mithrandir who could be able to help locate her." I was distinct reminded of the Schrödinger's cat scenario.

I looked up at Erestor hopefully, "Do you really mean it?"

"I say what I mean and I mean what I say," Erestor huffed. "Unlike some people, such as that golden-haired oaf we both know, I do not waste words." I laughed at Erestor's jibe at Glorfindel, but I still gave him a slightly reproachful look.

"Be nice, Erestor. Glorfindel is not here to defend himself."

"Wasting words all the while as he did so."

I let out a giggle before asking, "So, Erestor, what is our agenda today?"

"Mostly your regular schedule, except that we will be having lunch together and you will be staying here instead of heading off to the stables...Oh for goodness sake, put your hand down. We are not in one of those human classrooms, say what you need to say and be over with it."

"Does Elorne know? I do not want to worry him or abandon my duties." I had put down my hand while saying this, feeling foolish.

"Yes Elorne is aware of this arrangement. He has given you a week off, including today, to get to know your temporary guardian."

"Oh." I said, feeling very stupid at that moment.

Erestor sighed, "It was a valid question, there is no need to belittle yourself over it." He shuffled the papers, straightened them, and left them in a neat pile on the upper left hand corner on his desk for one of the scribes to pick up later. "Now, I believe those books will not shelf themselves?"

* * *

Today was very busy and you would not _believe _how thankful I was to Erestor for making this possible. For as long as I had a task, my mind almost completely focused on that one task with little thought to much else, especially if said task called for basic logical thinking and reasoning skills. It helped me greatly in taking my mind off of this Elrond person who I was going to be staying with. I asked Erestor about Elrond and he said that I already had met him, which totally threw me for a loop.

It was so sure that I had not met him before. I mean, even though Lord Elrond's name sounded _very _familiar. I was convinced that he was a stranger, because I was quite certain that I would remember the name of a Friend-of-Glorfindel, apparently not.

I would see him later at the end of the day, no big deal.

Yet, it was a big deal to me. I wanted to know what to expect so I could prepare myself accordingly, I did not like flying blind in situations like this. Well, actually I did not like flying blind at all, I don't really know why, either. It was kind of like how I liked to be in corners. I think it was a psychological thing, like mental habit of some sort. Maybe it was a mental pattern that had to do with me feeling safe or something. Something that developed over time because of past events and then became a habit or an almost instinct of some sort.

_Like when I flinched earlier when Glorfindel was merely trying to be affectionate._

Maybe I should explain why I reacted the way I did. When I was younger, I used to go to a private school back in Stillwater before my parents moved to the city. At that time, Kai wasn't born yet and Kenzo could not have been more than a few years old. Back then things were both great and terrible for me. They were great, because my grandma and grandpa were always close by, barely fifteen minutes away. However, they were terrible, because my step-dad didn't really know how things...worked. I didn't think that he realized that if you drag or...or... _hit_ someone that you get in trouble for it...

* * *

He was a big and tall man, far taller than me when I was in fourth grade, especially when he was close to six feet tall and had thick muscles in his arms. It was a long time ago for me, close to seven years, and I didn't really want to remember those times. However, some things just will not disappear completely and are only waiting for you to think of them for the memories to return. My mom and step-dad fought a lot, and they usually ended with her holed up in the bathroom crying and him pounding on the door, screaming at her. I would run outside and hide out there for hours.

_Watching._

Watching as the air got cooler and sky darker.

_Waiting._

Waiting for signs that it was safe for me to go back inside.

_Hoping._

Hoping that this time, I would not be the next one to feel his terrible wrath.

_Regretting._

Regretting that I did nothing to stop him from hurting my own mother and making her cry.

_Hating._

Hating myself and the whole situation that I must have caused by being sick all the time, not watching what I say, and monitoring what I do around him.

...

_My luck ran out._

...

It was only a matter of time before I didn't care any more. I didn't care what would happen next, I just couldn't stand seeing my mama cry. No one should have to see that happen because their father, step or otherwise, _beat_ her. No one should like spreading hurt and sadness. No one should feel this pain, this sadness that comes with betrayal of trust and loss of respect and loss of love.

But I did see those things.

And he did like to do those things.

And we, my mother and I... we did _feel_ those things.

_I couldn't take it any more._

I could sense his anger building up, like how a deer can hear a hunter as he draws back his arrow, how it can sense the blood lust of a poacher. He was going to bait my mama, going to bait her so he could justify getting angry and slapping her around. So he could justify his sick entertainment.

So I said something.

What I said, I don't remember, but I do remember his face. The stunned look as if my words had become a tangible object that had hit him in the face. I watch numbly, in a detached sort of way, as his face morphed to one of a self-righteous anger. His face as it turned from pale to pink to a red. His eyes widened then narrowed until they were almost nothing but slits. His nose flared as he bared his teeth into a grotesque almost-smile. I saw his neck muscles bulge and a vein stick up, throbbing slightly.

The numbness then left me and I bolted up the stairs. An indescribable terror stole over me as I ran up the steps, two at a time. Slamming the door behind me and cowering into the far corner of my room, bracing myself as I realize that there was not enough time to hide in my closet, judging by the sound of the footsteps stomping up the steps.

_Twenty-three steps..._

_...Nineteen steps..._

_...Fourteen steps..._

_...Eleven steps..._

_...Seven steps..._

_...Five..._

_...Four..._

_...Three..._

_...Two..._

_...One..._

He busted my door open and strode across the room, straight towards me. He grabbed my shoulders and roughly shook me, screaming and demanding some sort of explanation from me. I don't remember if I refused to look at him or if I did, that there was some expression of my detest towards him or something, but he got even angrier if such a thing was possible. He yelled louder and man-handled my face in a way that wasn't like Glorfindel's firm but gentle hand when he was trying to discern whether or not I had a concussion. His hand was rough and violent, his intention malevolent.

It wasn't that I was being purely stubborn or refused to give him an answer to whatever question he had asked me all those years ago, it was that I had no answer. I was too distressed and too busy crying to formulate one. I think that was when he slapped me to make me shut up. I don't remember if he did it more than once or what made him finally leave me to myself in my room, but I do remember one thing though.

_My mother never came._

She remained downstairs, staying below the radar and out of his path. I don't blame her nor am I angry with her, because that would make me a hypocrite. Because I never tried to save her either. I had always hid myself in my room or in my closet or outside in the bushes if worse came to worst.

_Because I ran away too._

He hit me a few times after that, but then, for no reason that I could see other than my mother finally stepping up to the plate and threatening him, he stopped and never hit me again in that context of cornering me. If he ever wanted to intimidate me, all he had to do was loom over me and speak in a threatening tone. If that failed to work effectively enough for him, he only had to morph his expression in a certain way to make me bend to his will.

_Eyes slightly bulging, thinning of the lips before turning into a snarl, raising and narrowing of the eyebrows, and flaring and wrinkling of the nose._

A face that scared me because of the pain that might follow, because of the consequences that might happen if I don't listen immediately. A face of hate, loathing, and malice. The face of someone who isn't human, but rather a demon who enjoys the torments of others. It isn't enough for them to be scared into silence, because whar fun would that be?

I had learned early on that it was best to pretend to not be hurt or humiliated. That silence was usually the best way to go, because silence breeds guilt in other people if they have done wrong to you. That to them, it is fun to persecute a pig because it squeals, but no fun at all to beat an animal which does not cry out.

So, I became a rabbit.

The only other animal that I could think of that didn't have a noise to call its own was a deer, for lambs can go "baa." I didn't consider myself a deer though, because deer have horns and flashing hooves. A way to protect themselves and, more importantly, protect others. That was the one trait I didn't have. I, like the rabbit, was only good at running away or hiding in a hole in the ground.

Nothing more and sometimes even less.

* * *

It was a nice change of pace, walking with Erestor to the dining hall. If he was surprised that I took his hand, he hid it really well, there wasn't even a slight pause before he gently gripped mine within his. And the best part is, I now felt that I could hold people's hands without feeling awkward. I had always been the kind of person who enjoyed physical contact with people usually, but in society back at home it was considered weird or wrong to hold hand with someone who was the same gender or if they were older than you, at my age and in America at least.

Like if two males held hands in Colorado, for instance. They would _immediately_ be labeled homosexuals right from the get-go. However if two males held hands in Israel they would be seen as friends. In Arab culture, physical contact such as holding hands between people of the same sex is a sign of affection without any sexual connotation. It's considered a sign of warmest affection and respect – a sign of solid friendship.

I have yet to see Erestor and Glorfindel walking around holding hands, but I did see Glorfindel put his arm around Erestor's shoulders once. Even without that one instance, it was still easy to tell that the liked each others company, no matter how much their bantering seemed to tell otherwise.

But I digress.

Instead of sitting at the end of the table where Glorfindel usually sat next to El-what's-his-face, Erestor sat at another table that was close by. Apparently, Erestor could have sat at El-what's-his-face's other side, but didn't want to because-according to Glorfindel-Erestor stayed with the advisors/scribes to keep them in line. Personally, I did not understand the whole issue of where people sat. If I wasn't visiting and playing with Erestor today, I would sat at the table close to the back of the dining hall where it was quiet and empty. I have no idea why, but none of the elves really sat there.

Odd.

I remember how back at school the moment you sat at a desk or a lunch table it immediately became yours. Laura always waited until people were really set down in their ways about a month or so into the school year. "A month, thirty days, is all it takes for people to develop or stop a habit. If they do it-or not do it-every day for those thirty days without fail, then it will become a natural thing to do or not to do those habits." Laura told the new friends we gained each year, usually the sophomores.

As soon as those thirty days passed, she led us down to sit at a completely different table picked at random. Then we sat there for another month or so before making the move again, to the chagrin of our fellow students whose table we just randomly snatched. Laura merely did it, because of the various and interesting expressions and reactions you would receive. The trick was to get your food and grab the table before any one else came down for lunch. Luckily for us, we were always able to accomplish this on each and every one of our spontaneous table jumping.

Our class usually got let out two to three minutes early for lunch, because Mr. McDevitt was really nice and almost always neatly finished his lessons about five minutes before the lunch bell. He would chat with us for a minute or two and then bid us a good day before dismissing us for lunch. He was one of my favorite teachers and, bonus points for him, because he was also a history teacher.

The _good_ kind.

I know what you are thinking! Don't you try to pretend that there isn't a good kind of history teacher, because there is! They are the kind that gets you interested in what happened and make it come alive. They are the kind that don't make you do busy work and make you copy everything out the text book word for word. They are the ones that say knowing the exact date is nice, but not the most important thing on a test. Notes are short and helpful, but are not made to read word for word, causing the teacher to get a droning quality to the tone of their voice.

Most importantly of all, they improvise a bit to make you laugh, get you interested, and actually want to put away your phone so that you listen and actually _learn_ something. Mr. McDevitt, Mr. Moffit, and Mr. Karageorgiou are my all time favorite history teachers as well as three of my top five favorite teachers or all time. Mr. Utzman (Homeroom) is my all time favorite teacher; tied for second place is Mr. Maronde (Science) and Mr. Burr (Language Arts). All of these teacher were able to accomplish this in some way, shape, or form.

As I remembered all the good times I had with my favorite teachers, I finished my lunch. Subtly, I stretched and stifled a yawn. I felt my eyes droop and I had to fight and mentally rouse myself to keep from lopping on top of Erestor. I felt full and content from the filling lunch I had eaten and not just that, I also had the strangest desire to take a nap. It wasn't only today either, I had been developing this strange craving for naps for over a month now. It always occurred after lunch or during mid-afternoon and if I wasn't too careful usually fell asleep straight away, where ever I was sitting or lying down.

But right now...

The dining hall was so warm and the elves voices were a nice and dull roar in terms of background sounds. My eyes just kept drooping lower and lower, and I slightly swayed side to side from the effort I put into staying awake. After a while, I just gave into the temptations of taking a nap. I lopped on Erestor and got comfortable; letting out a happy sigh, I breathed in Erestor's unique scent and quick fell into a fitful snooze. He smelled like paper, ink, and the live dreams that came out of books.

_The stories that were alive and, indeed, lived a life of their own._

* * *

It was late evening and I sat in a large comfortable chair. My feet barely made it to the edge of the seat as I sank deep into the upholstery. I had been able to take about a half hour nap, because Erestor had gotten into a long discussion with another advisor, Calaer. After the end of their discussion, Erestor stood up, which in turn awakened me, and we then went back to the library. I had felt much better after my nap and was more than happy to do some in-library errands for Erestor.

I was basically his paper-girl, going around delivering finished scrolls to the scribes that needed them or official documents to the advisors. I also brought the paperwork from the scribes, advisors, and a few warriors who were turning in their paperwork to Erestor, because Glorfindel was "indisposed of" at the moment. But now, when it started to get dark outside, he had me sit in the lounge of sorts that was near the fire-place. Technically, it wasn't called a lounge, but I didn't know what else to call it besides a living room. However, that didn't sound right either.

It was an area filled with chairs, two couches, and some tables for people to read or work in peace. This was, apparently, my appointed meeting spot with Elrond today. I was apprehensive about the meeting, although both Glorfindel _and_ Erestor told me I had absolutely nothing to worry about. Yes, I had nothing to worry about, other than the fact if I made one false move, I was out of here and banned for the rest of my pitiful existence of maybe a little over two centuries if I was lucky.

Nope, nothing to worry about there.

Shoot, if I keep doing this much longer, I will probably resort to stress-eating or in this case stress-reading since there is nothing to consume other than words... I was so nervous, I started to feel a cold sweat develop on my hands, which were turning clammy. Why didn't Erestor just let me continue to shelf books or let me be the paper-girl until the last possible moment? Then I wouldn't have any time to panic... That was when I heard the doors that led into the library open.

_He was here._

The over-whelming urge to run was so strong, I was struggling to get off of the chair the moment I heard those doors open. El-something-or-other walked into the library. Where was Elrond? I had panicked over nothing, it wasn't even my caretaker, just Glorfindel's friend El-what's-his-face, not Elrond. It's kind of funny; their names both have the first syllable, "El." ...Wait a second.

Elrond and El-what's is face/El-something-or-other.

1.) Both were friends of Glorfindel.

2.) I had met them both before.

3.) Both were important elf-lords.

And 4.) I had forgotten Elrond's face and El-what's is face/El-something-or-other's name.

_I am so _STUPID_._

How could anyone be that infuriatingly _dense_? This _had_ to be a new record or something. Where was Ripply and his believe-it-or-not book? Or, even better, The Guinness Book of World Records? Seriously, how stupid can one get?

Highest Level of Smartness: _Albert Einstein_.

Lowest Level of Idiocy: _Honor Rae_.

_For serious._

The rest of my musings were cut short when Elrond stepped all the way into the library. The door closed behind him and the whole place seemed to shrink. But that was mostly because he was so very big and because all of my attention was focused on him. 'Glorfindel said this was his best friend and I have spent a few minutes alone with him before, when he escorted me to Glorfindel's-and my-home. But...but... his presence right now is so _commanding_ and so _over-powering_... I am scared.'

_And I have to stay with him for one whole week? What was Glorfindel _thinking?

'Nothing obviously,' a snide voice in the back of my head cut in. Instead of responding, I jammed it in the closet with my cynical and manipulative sides to keep them company as well as occupied with each other. I blanched as Elrond's gaze found mine. His eyes were so intense.

I froze in my spot on the large chair as I warily watched him slowly walk closer. Elrond sat on the couch across from me and regarded me silently. I lowered my gaze, unable to look him in the eyes. "It has been along while since we had last seen and talked to each other, isn't that right, Sehnae?" He asked gently and I nodded mutely. "You will be staying with me for a week, maybe it would be best if we got to know each other a bit better."

I nodded again.

"I heard that you have a strong interest in flowers and other plant and animal life. Would you like to go on a walk with me into the woods tomorrow to see the meadow? I heard that its flowers still bloom late into the year." My head whipped up so fast, I was sure that I almost took it out of its socket. Would he really do that? Would he really take some time out of his busy schedule to take me out on a hike to see the flowers and maybe even teach me a bit about them?

"If it wouldn't be any trouble on your part, Mister Elrond, I would really like that." I said in a hushed tone, trying to keep all the excitement contained to a manageable level for an adult. However, I don't think that I was able to fool him any, because he looked amused.

"It would not be any trouble at all," Elrond said nicely. "I am taking the day off tomorrow. Not to worry though, I have not had a decent break in many months now. A day out in the woods with you would be a great way to spend it. However, it is now time for young elflings to go to bed. I will escort you to your room, would it be more comfortable for you to stay in Glorfindel's suite? He said that you would probably prefer staying in your own room. If not, my suite has an extra room that is empty for the moment. My wife is visiting Lothlórien, so the place is rather empty. Whichever place you choose is fine."

"I...I would like to stay in my own room, please." I hope he didn't take any offense. I just found it to be awkward to be staying in some strange male's home...

_Oh, the _irony_._

* * *

_Urui_ _the first of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

'To be honest, I thought he had forgotten...' I reflected as I stared at the tall elf-lord outside Glorfindel's home, bewildered. Obviously Elrond had not forgotten me-because he was supposed to baby-sit me for Glorfindel-but I thought he might have forgotten about taking me to go see the meadow. Most people would forget little stuff like that, especially if they are big and important like Elrond.

_My respect for him went up a few points._

He was carrying a basket and at my quizzical look, he answering my unspoken question by casually mentioning about having a picnic once we get there. Is he trying to earn brownie points with me? If so, he is succeeding, for serious. All my memories of picnics deal with sun-shine, flowers, cool breezes, and laughter. I have never had an unpleasant picnic experience, so if anyone ever wanted to sweeten me up for something, take me out for a picnic. Once they did that, I would happily comply with most requests, like loaning my most prized book or doing a major favor.

Another thing was, Elrond was wearing a tunic and breeches, you almost would have thought that he was your everyday common elf, if it wasn't for the tiara he was wearing. Actually, it wasn't just Elrond who wore a tiara, other elf-lords did too, even Glorfindel had one, but for the most part it remained untouched and unused in a drawer in his work desk. I am not sure whether or not Erestor has one, but if he does, he most likely keeps it in his out-of-bounds-with-no-exceptions drawer.

He no longer seemed as scary as he first did last night, nor did he seem like the type to just randomly kick people out. But I don't really know him, now do I?

Elrond led me out of the Last Homely House towards the Main Stables, or at least, the path that led to the Main Stables. Instead of turning to the left like I thought he would, he turned to the right, following a small trail. He walked at a pace that ensured I could easily follow him, a relaxed stroll. If I stopped to look at something or some how fell behind him, he would patiently wait for me to catch up with him.

Elrond didn't say anything for most of the walk, but I felt a growing apprehension in me. Should I say something? Do I need to say something? Or does he not feel like talking and I should remain quiet? What is he thinking about right now? Is he bored, annoyed, or what? He looks relaxed and at ease, so he must be, right? This mayor-elf is a hard nut to crack. It is actually very annoying.

'I can't take the silence anymore, I have to talk or I might just explode! But what do I say to him? Is nothing ever easy?'

_Just relax._ Said a feminine voice. _Get a grip. If you really need to talk, look around and notice your surroundings, sheesh._

That voice was so familiar, from where I didn't know, but I have heard it before from somewhere other than my mind... Alright, I just sounded really crazy right there, but that voice is from someone I know. For some reason I can't explain, the name fails to come to me at the moment, though I didn't know whose voice it was, it still gave sound advice, surprisingly. She, er, it was right.

Once I looked around and noticed my surroundings, I realized that there was a whole bunch of animals. Birds and squirrels were peeking from trees, small mammals were scurrying in the bushes, and far up ahead I saw some deer wandering on and around the trail. Were they semi-tame because they were used to the elves or was it something else? Curious, I reached out my hand to give a small tug on Elrond's tunic, but thought better of it. Instead, I asked, "Mister Elrond?"

"Yes, Penneth?" He looked down at me with a warm smile.

"Why are the animals so friendly? Back at ho-er, where I used to live-animals would like to hide when people came near. Why is that?"

"Animals fear humans most of the time, because most humans have lost their knowledge of the animals. The animals have become estranged to the humans and the humans have become estranged to the animals. Elves...We have not lost our oneness with nature. We have a better affinity than most races. Nature, life, is not estranged to us Eldar." Elrond noticed my confused expression and smiled indulgently, "This is a hard subject for one your age to wrap their mind around. In a few years' time, it will make more sense to you. For now, let us just say that elves like nature and nature likes us elves."

"Oh, all right. Thank you, Mister Elrond."

He merely smiled before asking nicely, "Do you have any more questions? I would be happy to answer them for you."

"Where are all the old people in Imladris? I can not find them anywhere." Elrond gained an expression that was a mixture between amused and completely stumped. 'Uh-oh, what if he doesn't know where they are?'

_Stupid! He is the mayor, of _course_ he would know where they are. He just doesn't know how to respond to you._

"Um, n-nevermind, forget I said anything, it doesn't matter." I waved my hand in a dismissive manner, but Elrond just shook his head.

"No, it is fine. It is natural for you to feel curious and wonder where the elderly are, since you lived with two elderly humans before you came to our care... It is also natural that you would not understand what it means to be an elf. However, did Glorfindel not tell you anything about your heritage?"

"H-he did! He said that elves age one year for every two and a half. We will live close to two hundred years, won't we?" Elrond let out a bark of laughter, his great shoulders shaking from his mirth.

"N-no, child. Whatever had given you that notion?"

"Oh, I get it. So we die looking young? We will look as if we are in our thirties or forties?" Elrond stopped laughing quite quickly once I had said that, especially since I was starting to get really distressed over the whole not knowing when-or how for that matter-I was going to die.

"Sehnae, once you have reached your majority, you will stop aging. Elves are immortal and do not die because of the sands of time. We may die through other causes, but other than that we live forever." I gawked at him.

I wanted to protest, saying that what he just said couldn't be right. That everyone lives, grows old, and then dies. We all have to die at some point or everything will go wrong, like in _Tuck Everlasting_, how everything _did_ almost go wrong. I wanted to say that he was crazy, that they were all crazy, that this was all a dream, or that I had to be in a coma. Heck, I wanted to say that this wasn't possible, because I was already dead-or at least should be dead.

Then I thought, 'what does it matter? I am going to die (again?) eventually. If the people taking care of me think that we are all going to live forever and that until I reach my majority that I will age very slowly, that is their issue, not mine. As soon as I am old enough, I'll...I'll...'

_You'll what, run away, try to go back home, what? What will be different then than it is now? Answer me that! _The voice demanded of me.

'I-I don't know. I don't know what I'll do, yet, but for now I am going to wait for my sister. If she doesn't come, then...then... I am going to go look for her! That is what I will do. If I have to wait twelve to fourteen years, then so be it.'

* * *

Elrond wouldn't admit it, but he _may_ have been excited about baby-sitting Glorfindel's elfling... Oh, all right, he _was_ excited, _extremely_ excited. He was so excited about being the one elf that Glorfindel asked to care for the little elfling, that he _might_ have issued a small noise of victory...

Oh, who was he kidding?

Elrond had let out a quiet shout of joy, he liked children a _lot_. The task of being able to care for one, even for only a week, made him giddy. The thought alone made him feel young again, remembering all the mischief and great fun Elrond and his sons got up to when the twins were only elflings. Celebrían always remarked on this on more than one occasion with her query of if there were three elflings rather than only two elflings.

Glorfindel, however, kept telling Elrond over and over again that Sehnae was different from the children Elrond raised as well as elflings in general.

If he was asked to elaborate on what he meant by that, Glorfindel usually hesitant and give a non-committal shrug. If he was pressed, Glorfindel would say, "Sehnae is a lot more mentally developed. He can comprehend more things than any elfling his age should and some of those things are something elflings should not have to understand until they are much, much older. He is like a mortal in their youth, their teens, rather than an elfling in their teens. I fear why he was able to develop those skills was not in the best of ways. I beg of you Elrond to watch him with the utmost care. I worry for how he will fair while I am gone."

Elrond was reluctant to believe that. Yes, Sehnae was quiet and a lot more mature than most elflings his age, but that was merely because of the environment he was raised in until now, like Glorfindel said. What Elrond disagreed with Glorfindel was the way the warrior told him to care for the elfling. He thought his old friend was mistaken in treating the elfling as if he was a full grown adult of society, when the elfling was probably craving to be treated as a child, unbeknownst to both Glorfindel and Sehnae.

However, it was not Elrond's place to tell Glorfindel how to raise his charge and Glorfindel had been a proper parent in caring for Sehnae's needs. Elrond just thought that Sehnae should be-oh, what was that thing the Celebrían said that he tended to do with his children?-_doted on_ more. There had been an obvious lack of it until the elfling and his twin had went to their "grandparents."

Sehnae's twin...

Elrond worried for her fate. He knew what a terrible loss it was to lose one's other half; it left an empty hole that refused to go away, no mater how much time had passed. 'That poor child.' It was lucky for Sehnae that he had been found as soon as he was, but the girl elfling, the one still missing, _what about her?_

Elrond knew she was alive, the fact that Sehnae wasn't in hysterics told him so, but she must be far away if Sehnae was so distressed over his sibling's well-fare as he was. Elrond knew just exactly how strong the bond between elven twins were. They were, in fact, just as strong as a marriage bond between two elves. The twins would have the same fëa, the same spirit, that separated into two beings, which created both of them. The spirit evolved and turned into two separate and different, although they appear very similar, souls.

When elves marry, when they wed and claim the other as their life partner, they give the other elf a part of their fëa. Some elves like to say that each time they wed, the bond gets stronger, but Elrond doubted it was the act of wedding itself. Rather, it was being so close to their spouse and the longer they were together, the stronger the bond got, because their love for each other just kept on growing and getting stronger as well.

'But it is not only one's spouse an elf would continue to love more and more,' Elrond mused, 'but their children and family as well.' Elrond could see clearly enough that Glorfindel was quite taken with his charge. It brought Elrond joy to see Glorfindel finally find someone to give his love and attention to. The elf-lord had been worried that coming back from the dead (twice!) might have done more damage than the ex-king and balrog-slayer had let on.

Elrond had notice that Glorfindel had an alarming habit of singing his own funeral dirges and lays that were made in honor of his previous death(s) when he drank too much wine and was left by himself for too long.

Glorfindel had also been showing some other alarming symptoms of the effects it had on him over the years that were a part of the cause of Elrond's strong recommendations to Glorfindel that he should finally settle down and start a family. Sehnae was exactly what the healer-Elrond himself-had ordered. However, Elrond did not just recommend this as Glorfindel's healer, but also as his best-friend. Elrond hoped that once the other elfling was found, that between the two of those twins, Glorfindel would have no room in his heart and mind for dark thoughts and emotions.

Elrond also hoped his sons would find the child as quickly as was possible...or at least Mithrandir. That old wizard would at least have heard some _whisper_ of a rumor of some sort. He always seemed to know something, even if he knew absolutely nothing at all.

Sehnae, Elrond could tell, was suffering from the lack of being with his sister and was missing her greatly. His presence, even when at his most energetic, seemed to radiate a sort of mental and physical exhaustion. The girl's absence was affecting him, interrupting the elfling's sleep, if the bags under the child's eyes as well as both Glorfindel _and _Erestor's worried comments were anything to go by. It may have been amusing to watching the elfling contently fall asleep on Elrond's chief advisor's arm while he had a heated debate with another scribe, but seeing how still and-it terrified Elrond to say this, but-_death-like_ the child slept was not normal.

Even though the lad was young and most elflings eventually learn how to sleep normally when they are older, Elrond could not help but worry that the elfling's closed eyes while sleeping hinted at something much darker.

_He wanted the missing elfling safe and he_ _wanted her found._

For now, Elrond hoped he would be adequate enough to distract the elfling until his sons found their precious cargo. However, this had proved more difficult than he originally thought. When Elrond had entered the library, Sehnae had looked like _The End_ had come for him. Sehnae still seemed to be unable to look him in the eye during the first part of their-mostly one-sided-conversation. It wasn't until Elrond had mentioned about the possibility of going to a garden that Sehnae finally acted like an elfling should, if, however, far more polite. Elrond honestly wasn't at all surprised when the elfling opted for staying in Glorfindel's suite.

_At least that place was familiar territory._

After breakfast and packing a basket with a lunch for both the elfling and himself, he knocked on the door to Glorfindel's suite. When Sehnae answered, he looked surprised to see Elrond there, before a smile unconsciously crossed his face. Sehnae's contained joyful expression turned to one of slight puzzlement as he took in Elrond's appearance and the basket he was holding. "I thought while we go to the meadow that we could have a picnic, since it is such a nice day today. What do you think?"

Sehnae gave the biggest smile Elrond had seen the elfling wear yet. The elf-lord strongly suspected that it was all Sehnae could do to not start bouncing up and down, like he had seen his sons do once in a while when they were that age. The elfling let out a small squeal of glee, before covering his mouth and looking back up at Elrond as if just realizing the older elf was there. Elrond gave a reassuring smile and Sehnae flashed one back before scampering off to go retrieve his slippers that Glorfindel had gotten for the elfling last month.

This meadow that Elrond was taking the elfling to was one that few elves knew about. It was not that it was well hidden, but it was in a place where few looked. The small trail that led to the meadow was opposite to that of the main stables, it was narrow and some times disappeared under the under-growth for a few paces from time to time. Elrond took care not to go too fast for the child's little legs, for he didn't want the child to get distracted, wander off of the trail, and get lost.

_Not that Elrond couldn't easily track down and find the elfling, but he didn't want Sehnae to get scared and lose what little trust the blond had in him. _

Elrond could see Sehnae out of his peripheral vision right now, glancing quickly at him when Sehnae thought he wasn't looking. Abruptly, the small elf took account of his surroundings, most likely noticing for the first time all the wildlife that surrounded them. Seeing this many animals wasn't all that uncommon, wildlife had a tendency to be attracted to elves and nature long remembers the comings and passings of the Eldar.

He saw Sehnae reach out as if to tug at his tunic hem and he was suddenly reminded of his daughter, Arwen. Sehnae had the same-almost feminine-expression that his daughter would gain when she wanted to satisfy her curiosity on something she didn't understand when she was the same age as Sehnae was now. Then Sehnae drew back his hand as if it was burned, and his expression warped into one that held self-reproach. Elrond was stunned, this was an expression he had _never_ seen a mere elfling of only fifteen summers wear before. The soonest he could remember seeing that expression on an elf-child was from a nameless elfling who appeared to be in its mid-thirties.

_Glorfindel may have been on to something when he said this elfling was an old soul. This notion scared Elrond deeply._

"M-mister Elrond?" Sehnae's quiet voice broke the elf-lord from his thoughts.

'Soft Whisper, indeed,' Elrond mused before smiling at the elfling, trying coax him further out of his shell. "Yes, Penneth?"

"Why are the animals so friendly? Back at ho..." The elfling paused and swallowed hard before continuing, "where I used to live, animals would like to hide whenever people were around. Why is that?"

"That is because you were living in a human populated area, animals-in their own way-fear humans and vice versa. They are no longer as close with nature as they once were. They, both the animals and the humans, have become strangers to each other. For elves, this is not so, we have a very close affinity with nature. It is to the point where on occasion the flightiest deer may approach us with its own free will. However, that does not happen very often and to few elves does this occur." Elrond realized he was losing Sehnae somewhere in his lengthy explanation. "Let us simply say that elves like nature and nature likes elves."

"I understand...mostly... Thank you, Mister Elrond."

Mister Elrond.

Where did the little elfling come up with that? The elf-lord liked that title a little more than the title 'Lord Elrond' as he was usually given. It was-dare he say it-very _cute_ of Sehnae to say such things. However, this only worked at Sehnae's age, Elrond shuddered to think of his long time friend and rival, Thranduil, say that with the same tone and inflection as this elfling was. How horrifying.

But Elrond digressed, "Do you have anymore questions? I would be more than happy to answer them."

"Do you know where all the old people are hidden in Imladris?" Sehnae blurted out, before the look of the utmost _mortification_ appeared on his small face. The blond child scrambled to rectify the imaginary faux-pas he thought he made. "I looked everywhere and there wasn't any sign of them and...and... n-nevermind."

Elrond was filled with the inane urge to laugh. Sehnae obviously meant this as a serious question and it should be treated as such. Now was most certainly not the time, place, or even company to laugh. Elrond managed to compose himself, but only just. "No it is fine. It is only natural that you would be wondering where the elderly were, especially since you lived with an elderly couple until recently. It is also natural that you would not know what it means to be an elf and everything it entails exactly. However, did Glorfindel tell you anything at all about your heritage?"

"Yes, he did!" Sehnae protested, panicking slightly, "He said that elves age one year for every two and a half years. We live close to two hundred years, don't we?"

That did it; Elrond finally lost it. He let out a bark of laughter before looking away, still laughing very hard, if however, silently. He bit his lip and tried to compose himself after a minute or two he managed to choke out, "N-no, child. Whatever had given you that notion?"

"Oh, I get it. So we die looking young? Will we look as if we are in our thirties or forties?" The child truly knew nothing. Although this was funny at first, this was also a serious matter and a problem that needed to be rectified.

"Sehnae, once you have reached your majority, you will stop aging. Elves are immortal and do not die because of the sands of time. We may die through other causes, but other than that we live forever." The elfling stared at himself looking much like a deer who had frozen at a hunter on a horse that ran up to meet it. Then his expression had morphed into one of disbelief and yet Elrond knew that for one who had been raised all their life-until recently-as a human, chances were that they would have the same beliefs and outlook on life.

He surmised that Sehnae would have to learn by experience, that he would know the truth as the years went by and Elrond, Glorfindel, and countless other elves failed to age as Sehnae believed they would. 'A pity,' Elrond thought, 'that we had not discovered the existence of the two elflings sooner. Maybe then one of them would not be lost and the other so shy and mistrustful. Ah, we have arrived...' Elrond announced this fact to the elfling beside him before eagerly watching his charge's reactions.

Elrond was not disappointed.

Sehnae sucked in a startled and awestruck breath as he soaked in the meadow's appearance. Here and there were faintly pink arbutus flowers and immaculately white Lily-of-the-valley flowers. Baby's breath grew in clumps dotting the hills with their daisy friends. These daisies were an off-bluish-white on the petals while their centers were a dark indigo color, a striking appearance that seemed to happen here and few other places. Purple and blue periwinkle also found their places where they could. There were a few other types of flowers, but Elrond could not recall a name for them.

Sehnae suddenly raced out into the meadow like an arrow loosed from its bow. The laughter of an elfling filled the air as well as a song about flowers or, at least, the chorus appeared to be about flowers. The design was similar to most children songs in nature, simple and repetitive. The tune itself was not hard to understand and sing, but the lyrics were sung in a completely different language, except for the chorus.

_"Klein und aufgekratzt,_  
_Ein delikat malend._  
_Sanft Blumenblätter,_  
_Ein Regenbogen anstecken._

_Dearest friends, oh flower faces._  
_Kind words and gracious places."_

Elrond was a master of languages, he knew quite a few, but did not know dwarvish, since the dwarves guarded it so jealously. However, what else could it be? The language was gruff and some of the roots seemed to be the same from what snippets he heard the dwarves speak of the language. Elrond watched the child dance and twirl farther and farther away. The elf-child's voice carried easily over to where he was, and he listened for a moment or two.

_"Ruhig blau und schier grün._  
_Gelinde weiß, die tönen tief._

_Dearest friends, oh flower faces._  
_Kind words and gracious places._

_Sonne Wärme._  
_Mond Trittbretter,_  
_Zwielicht und bleich._  
_Tanzend in ein verspielt Brise."_

Elrond took a step out into the meadow, then another, and another. Soon he was chasing after Sehnae, who laughed merrily and sang without a care in the world. Unbeknownst to the elf-lord, Honor Rae's inner-elfling instincts had sudden gripped her and led her into the playing that she was doing right now. Those inane-in her opinion-urges took over once in a while like when she chased butterflies and/or dragonflies without any thought.

_ When she had felt the want to trust Elladan and Elrohir while her teenager mind strongly advised against it. _

_When she wanted her baby blanket and old stuffed dog to cuddle with at night._

_When she wanted to give hugs and kisses to Glorfindel like she used to give her Grandpa when she was a little girl._

These were same urges that caused her to want to play, to want to nance around, and try to run away from the big elf who was trying to scooped her up into his arms. These were the same urges that allowed her the ease and absence of mind to sing the flower song that Laura used to sing without care of who would hear it or see her tearing through the meadow. She didn't care and wanted to live in the moment.

_"...Ein Lied so süßlich weich  
Von Erinnerungen und misst Zeit weg..."_

All of this, Elrond did not know and would not know.

* * *

Honor Rae stuck out her tongue in concentration, eying the small slit she made in the flower's stem with her fingernail as she tried to insert the stem of the next flower. She made a small coo of victory when it finally went through and she gently pulled it until she reached the head of the flower. She repeated this process with another blue daisy and another. She paused only when she heard Elrond let out a noise of frustration.

Looking up, she saw that Elrond had tried to weave a crown together using different flowers instead of daisies. Those flowers stems were too thin and most certainly were not thick enough for making slits to put the flower stems through. They were also not long enough to try twisting them all together. She stifled a giggle before offering him a daisy, which Elrond took with a thank you. Honor Rae covertly watched him out of the corner of her eyes and purposely slowed her movements and made them more obvious when he studied her weaving.

They had been weaving flowers for a long while now and Honor Rae had been enjoying it immensely. Elrond had asked earlier about the language she had been singing in and she vaguely answered that it was in German. When she was pressed further, she told him that it was language from a far off land and that both herself and her sister had learned it from a teacher who spoke it.

Elrond at that point had taken another step forward and with a squeal, Honor Rae had danced away, running from the raven-haired elf-lord, giggling madly. Elrond realized that he wouldn't be able to get a better answer than that, so he let the matter drop. Instead, he allowed Honor Rae to put some distance in between the two of them and hide in a large patch of those blue daisies, whose stalks were so long, they covered the elfling decently enough.

You could still see a head of blonde hair peeking in between the petals, though.

Elrond pretended that he was having a hard time finding Honor Rae, theatrically looking around with the expression of the utmost puzzlement. He pretended to be unable to hear her suppressed and muffled laughter. He walked in circle around the clump of daisies, saying, "Oh where, oh where could Sehnae have snuck off to? Hmm, I wonder..." Here Elrond came to a stop right in front of Honor Rae. "Could he be... _in here_?" Elrond suddenly swooped down and plucked Honor Rae right out of her hiding place from a amongst the daisies.

"Ack!" Honor Rae squeaked out, her feet running on air as she was lifted high off the ground.

"What is this I found in my meadow? Who is this brave and foolish little elfling that has dared to challenge Elrond the Grand in his domain?" Elrond teased, mouth twitching as he tried to maintain a somber expression. Honor Rae stopped struggling and stared at him, as if he had grown a second head as she mouth the words 'Elrond the Grand' incredulously. The lord of Imladris progressively more foolish and flustered as the silence stretched between the two of them.

Finally, Honor Rae caught on and threw the poor elf-lord a bone, "I-I do?" She asked uncertainly while pointing at herself in the oh-so-famous "me?" gesture.

"I see," said Elrond in his most pretend-serious voice that he reserved only for his children when he played the game 'Dragon and Warrior(s)' with them. "What is the name of this brave warrior who dares to disturb me?"

"Oh, I am no warrior, Mister Grand. I am merely passing through, admiring your lovely flowers. I am simply a humble little elf."

"Are you, indeed? So you do not wish to pick some and take them home after joining me for lunch?" Elrond asked, waggling his eyebrows as he shifted Honor Rae so she was more comfortably settled on his hip. Honor Rae's eyes lit up with a hopeful look.

"Ooh, may I, Mister El-er, Mister Grand?"

"But one does not simply let another walk away with such lovely flowers, as you put it, with nothing to trade in return. Shall we have a fight to the death? If you can slay this old dragon, you may have all the flowers you can carry." Using his foot, Elrond kicked a stick up into the air and deftly caught it with his free hand. He offered it to Honor Rae who vigorously shook her head.

"Oh no, I could never defeat _you, _Mister Grand. however, what if I had taught you how to make a crown worthy of a "dragon" named Elrong the Grand."_  
_

"Hmm... that might suffice. However, what are you going to make it out of?"

"Flowers, of course."

"Flowers?"

"Silly, what else could I make it out of that would suit you best?"

"I am very flattered. I was merely surprised that you knew how to make a flower crown."

"Well, yes. It is not a very hard thing to do if you are shown how to do it right. Set me down please, Mister Grand, and I will show you how." And close to three hours later found them sitting side by side making their respective flower crowns. Honor Rae finished hers first, but it was far too big for her.

Elrond did not hesitate to point this out, "It is very big for a flower crown for someone of your size. It it a flower necklace instead?"

"I did not make a lei; I made this for you!" Honor Rae stood on her tip-toes and with great care placed the flower crown on Elrond's head.

"I thank you, dear Sehnae,for this skillfully done crown," Elrond stated regally with another smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"Does it suffice?" Honor Rae asked cheekily, before blinking in surprise. Since when had she gotten brazen? Since when had she gotten so...so _saucy? _She had to stop this, right now. Even though it was a whole lot of fun not to, she really needed to start acting her age. Really, what would her mother say?

'Probably something along the lines of, "Really, Honor? Just what do you think you are doing, tearing around like that and making a complete and utter _fool_ of yourself? Stop it this instant. Really, Honor Rae, you are fifteen, almost sixteen! Stop acting out like your brothers before you embarrass us all!" Yes, something like that...'

Her thoughts were interrupted by Elrond placing his finished flower crown on top off her head. Honor Rae's hand's automatically reached up to the crown on her head, but merely hovered there as she stared at Elrond surprised. Her mouth slightly opened into the shape of an 'O' in her stunned bewilderment, struck speechless.

"A crown fit for an elf-prince, I think," Elrond said with a chuckle at some private joke that he alone shared with himself. Unbeknownst to Honor Rae, Elrond was referring to the fact that Glorfindel-her guardian-was the reincarnation of the slain elven-king Ereinion Gilgalad. Elrond fondly caressed her cheek before closing Honor Rae's mouth with his hand and stood up. He walked over to where he left the picnic basket while Honor Rae stared at him almost stupidly.

Finally, she blinked several times before shaking her head in a disbelieving manner. Elrond plunked down across from her and started taking out fresh bread, apples, vegetables, cheese, and some meat. In a large jug of some sort-she believed they were called water-skins-was a sweet tasting juice from some unidentifiable fruit.

Honor Rae ate the food slowly and with great relish as she did with all the meals she ate here. None of the food tasted the same as back home-in a good way. All the food was organic, non-artificial, non-processed, and completely, one-hundred percent natural. Honor Rae never thought she would see the day when she would find a food that could rival her grandma's cooking. Apparently, however, that day had come months ago when she first tasted that flaky and light bread called lembas.

Honor Rae and Elrond ate in companionable silence until well past noon. Soon after that, however, Honor Rae felt sleep tugging at the edges of her mind, growing steadily more insistent until they became more like yanks than tugs. She gave into her desire to sleep without too much of a fight this time, being more exhausted than usual with all the running around that she had been doing that morning.

She had actually fallen asleep sitting up, her head nodding from the desire to let it rest versus the effort to stay upright. Elrond, after watching this for a few seconds, reached over and gentle took the girl into his arms. The action almost woke her up, but Elrond quickly sent her into Dreamland with a few hushed words and mentally biding her to go back to sleep.

And with that decision, Elrond now had a few hours to himself to remember a time long ago when he used to hold his children like this and pretend, if only for a little while, that he _was _holding one of his own.

* * *

_Urui the Third of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

Sehnae had stayed asleep for so long that Elrond had felt obliged to take him home and tuck him into bed. Elrond truly hoped that the elfling didn't mind being cast into that deep sleep, but Sehnae desperately needed it. Elrond had the ability to provide for that need, so he did, and he would do it again if he was given a chance to do that choice over again.

_Sehnae slept through the rest of the afternoon and into mid-morning the day._

Elrond had to work that day, but he made sure to do work that was not too boring so the elfling wouldn't feel neglected. The elfling should be able to keep himself entertained while Elrond did what he needed to do. The elf-lord noticed that Sehnae seemed to have plenty of experience in self-entertainment, but even still, he fretted. However, he soon found out that he needn't have worried his pretty, little head about anything.

Sehnae took to the healing quite nicely-Elrond was worried that the elfling might have been squeamish, but Sehnae was just fine when a walked in with some broken fingers. In fact, he watched with rapt attention as Elrond dealt with the slightly childish patient. Sehnae had even joked about it later. Sehnae told Elrond with a giggle, after the elf-lord decided to just knock out the warrior so he could get on with his healing, "I bet it is hard to 'stay back' and 'fix it' at the same time any other way, but you were only trying to do as you were told."

Elrond remembered being startled, because he hadn't realized that he was muttering his frustrated thoughts out loud. His thoughts about how that silly elfling-of-a-warrior's only choice was to be unconscious for Elrond to do his job. Once Elrond had gotten over his initial surprise, he smiled, saying, "I do believe you are right about that, I was only trying to do as he asked."

Elrond soon realized over the course of the rest of that day and the next day, that Glorfindel was quite right about the little elfling that the balrog-slayer had adopted. Sehnae was almost entirely like his children as they were now as adults. However, Sehnae still managed to maintain a child-like personality and spoke with the blind-faith of the young and the innocent, usually taking Elrond's words at face value. Sehnae was still an elfling and was at heart a happy and gentle child.

'And may it ever remain so,' Elrond said to himself as he reflected on it. Even still though, for all that Sehnae was a young, innocent, happy, and gentle child, there seemed to be a shadow that hung over him. Elrond noticed that it appeared very often and more frequently than what should ever be considered normal for an elfling of that age. Sehnae seemed to age many years whenever that shadow was present and that unsettled the half-elf.

One example would be that whenever given a compliment or some words of praise, Sehnae seemed surprised and unsure of what to do with it. It made Elrond seethe to see that Sehnae never seemed to give himself a break and was always reproaching and scolding himself over the smallest mistake. 'Poor thing,' Elrond thought, 'to feel so awkward and unsure. Did his foster parents ever offer him any approval at all?' Elrond was sure that the answer that the answer was most likely not.

_The elf-lord was also apprehensive about seeing how the missing twin's personality had developed as well from the poor raising by foster parents._

* * *

_Urui the Fourth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

When Elrond brought Sehnae to the Healers' Garden, the elf-lord was blown away by the positive response. Sehnae ran around the garden excitably, rattling off names of the herbs she knew, which was a good majority of the plants there, from seemingly nowhere. Some of the names that were recited were unfamiliar, but a large number of them were very familiar and were, in fact, correct. Elrond knew that Sehnae was very knowledgeable in the nature of plants and flowers, but he wasn't aware that the elfling knew so much!

But then again, maybe he shouldn't be so surprised, Glorfindel mentioned that the elfling's "grandmother" had a garden and that they both had spent countless hours out in it. It wouldn't take any stretch of the imagination to say that the elderly woman had taught Sehnae all she knew in the way of plants. Sehnae had proven to be much more mentally developed than what was considered normal for an elfling of fifteen summers, not that it was a bad thing, but it was unusual.

On the bright side though, Elrond truly had a common ground now with Sehnae. He knew the name of every single plant in this garden and then some. 'Maybe the elf-child would enjoy an impromptu lesson about herbs?' Elrond asked himself. Out loud he asked, "Sehnae?" Then he waited until the blonde managed to tear his gaze away from the flora around them before continuing, "Would you like to learn about the Sweetling?"

"Would I!" Sehnae squeaked before rushing over and swatting next to the plant, the only plant, that was next to Elrond. "What is the Sweetling's story?"

"...Story?" Elrond asked completely thrown off.

"Yes, the Sweetling's story. all plants have a story that tells about their name, abilities, personalities, traits, preferences to soil, sleep patterns, and so on."

"I do not know how these stories go. Why don't you give me an example?"

"All right, let us see..." The elfling thought quietly for a moment before smiling, "I have got it. Once upon a time, there was a woman who was completely and utterly in love with a man. She had always wanted to tell him how she felt, but was too shy to do so. 'I will tell him next time,' She would promise herself. 'I will tell him later.' One day, the man was summoned to go to war and the woman could not bare the thought of the man leaving, possibly to his death, without ever know her affections of him. So before he left on the boats, the woman called him over to the side of the road and confessed her love.

"He returned her affections and promised that when he came back that would marry her and take her to be his wife. He then left on the ship with the other men and the woman faithfully waited for his return. She went out every morning to that same spot on the road where promise was made, a spot that overlooked the ocean. Every evening, she would return to her home crestfallen. Many years had passed and although many men had returned, her betrothed never did.

"Finally, the woman succumbed to her grief, sank down on the side of the road exhausted, and dead of heartbreak. Blue flowers with a golden heart grew in that spot beside the road, opening in the morning and closing in the evening. 'Wegwarte,' they called the flowers and remembered them. Truly the flower was a 'watcher of the road,' although most called them 'Chicory' or 'Succory.' The flowers seemed to spread on the side of roads and areas with chalky soil, always seeming to be one steps behind in the foot steps of Man, as if looking for the woman's betrothed, searching and waiting.

"They also seemed to have the feelings of the woman and would like to help ease the pain of others. Their leaves, when bruised, make a poultice for inflamed eyes, for the flowers remembered all the tears the woman had shed. Their leaves, when boiled in a broth, help ease and strengthen hot, weak, and feeble stomachs for the sick and feeble people, for the flowers remembered the woman's pangs and aches of grief in her own stomach. The flowers even visited empty wastelands similar to where the man fought and died in battle, allowing, in part, for the man and woman to always be together." Sehnae stopped for a moment or two before quietly saying in a subdued manner, "They are my grandma's favorite flowers."

"It is a very lovely flower," Elrond agreed, stunned slightly by the story he was just told.

"It is." Sehnae stated simply before asking, "What about the Sweetling? What is its story?" Elrond remained silent for a few seconds thinking of a story. His mind remained blank and he was having trouble thinking of one, but when he studied the flower, who's story was giving him so much trouble in the first place, an idea was starting to form.

"Once upon a time," Elrond began slowly. "There was an elf-maiden. She enjoyed being in moist and shady locations, like in open areas under trees or she sometimes in meadows. She was a calm and caring elf, gentle and at ease in all her ways. Many people in her presence found themselves calm and ease, even if them had a hot temper on them, they would find themselves cooled and soothed by her presence. Those who had trouble sleeping, would find themselves waking from a refreshing rest not long after she had bid them to try and sleep for her. Small children who suffered from fevers and sore throats would find their symptoms ease at her cooling and healing touch.

"Many loved her, but she loved all and not merely one person. She spread her care and love to everyone and many were thankful for it. Flowers now occupy her favorite haunts, all fair flowers with petal that ranged from violets to blues to indigo to purples and to every shade in between. The Sweetling flowers go by many names, such as: Sweet Violets, the Apple Leaf, and the Garland Flower. The perennial flowers grew to have the same disposition as the elf-maiden who one day left for the Undying Lands. All were still blessed with her care long after her departure through the flowers."

"That was a really good story, Mister Elrond," Sehnae complemented.

"Thank you, Sehnae."

"What about this flower; what is its name?"

"Well, that would be Fennel..."

* * *

_Urui the Fifth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

Considering the last five days, I think that it was pretty obvious that I had Elrond all wrong. He must be one of the biggest softies that I have ever met that appeared to have either an unapproachable or intimidating exterior. This is counting Erestor, the biggest burnt marshmallow you could ever find, seemingly unpleasant and crunchy at first glance, but actually gooey and sweet, if a bit crisp.

Oh, and I am also including Elorne, the giant realistic-looking teddy-bear.

But Elrond, if I had only one way to describe him, he would be like the ocean, calming and relaxing. Always there with a soothing and constant presence that is right there, but isn't suffocating or overwhelming. He gently wields great power in a very controlled and just manner. However, I could tell that just like the sea, that he could be dangerous and terrifying if he was stirred up. Just like Glorfindel could be-and like he was with those orcs.

_Just like how anyone could rightly be, given the right conditions._

My assumption that Elrond would randomly kick people out of Imladris on a whim was unfounded and most definitely unnecessary. In fact, he made it especially clear that Imladris was now my home and that he hoped that over time I would stop referring to the city as Imladris and as 'home' instead. I really didn't-and still don't!-know what to make of that remark. I am just taking it as Elrond accepts me as a civilian of his city and calling it a day.

Seriously, what is up with elves speaking in riddles? It is like they aren't speaking in English and are talking in a whole different language or something... Knowing my luck, they probably are and someone decided to leave me out of the loop. But I digress and am getting off topic here. What was I talking about? Elrond, right? Yeah, the mayor-elf. He is nice and all, but he is also _super_ weird, in a good way though. Like once in a while if he thinks I am not smiling enough or something, he will make a monkey face at me.

I kid you not.

The super serious, ultra grave, and mega important mayor-elf doesn't hesitate in the slightest at making funny faces, just so he can get me to laugh or smile or something. It is kind of the same thing you would do to really little kids that are around two to five years old, not fifteen. Although, I remember back in school the other kids would still make faces at each other anyway, but usually the adults would only make those faces at small children.

The first time he did it, I merely stared at him, before shaking my head and going back to drawing a picture badly. This, I assure you, I was doing on purpose. Four-year-olds aren't supposed to draw very well. The next time he did it, he kept on doing it until his utter dorkiness made me crack a smile and bite my lip to keep myself from laughing at him. I was doing pretty well at that and almost managed to gather my wits and get myself under control.

But then he waggled his eyebrows.

I laughed for close to three minutes straight and it was made worse every time that I started to calm down and happened to look at him, he waggled his eyebrows again and set me on another fit of giggles. The next time he did it, I almost succeeded in keeping a completely straight face, until Erestor walked in while Elrond made another monkey face. Elrond froze, Erestor raised an eyebrow, and I fell off on chair choking, gasping, shaking, and crying because I was laughing so hard.

"If your face freezes that way, I will refuse to continue working with you, Elrond, because I would be unable to take you seriously." Erestor's flat and matter-of-fact comment just about killed me. From then on, I noticed that there were significantly less funny faces and when there were, it was on the sly.

Then Elrond found out I was ticklish and let me say this, that elf is _evil_. First it was just his long hair that was tickling my face when we went for a ride on his horse. I had started giggling and he asked what was so funny. "Your hair tickles and I am really ticklish," I giggle again. He stopped the horse, but I was too busy trying to get his hair out of my face to notice.

You are...ticklish?" His voice and expression probably would've been alarming if I had been paying attention.

"Y-yes!" I laughed harder when his breath started tickling the back of my neck.

"Well, in that case..." Elrond started to mercilessly tickle my sides. I let out a squeal before laughing uncontrollably. I tried to pull away, but that is a rather hard feat to accomplish on a horse.

He refused to stop until I pleaded, "Mercy! Mercy! Have mercy on my soul!" This was followed by more wild laughter. His finger are extra long too, so he had a double unfair advantage besides being bigger than me.

Anyway, despite my reservations about him being slightly intimidating (through no fault of his own, maybe it was the lighting and the angle from where I am looking up at him?) and tickling me, I am starting to like Elrond a lot. In my list of favorite elves, I would say he is in third place behind Glorfindel and Erestor, tied with Elorne who is also in third place. The twins Aladin and Rohere are dead last; they scare me.

* * *

_Urui the Sixth of the Year 2002 during the Third Age_

* * *

I haven't been this disappointed in anything in a really long time and this was most certainly the worst afternoon I have had since the whole river incident. I mean, it started out just fine; I had a good night's sleep the night before and had been having regular nights of sleep for several days now. Ever since I woke up tucked in my bed after visiting that meadow with Elrond, I have been having solid hours of sleep , because he had taken to tucking me into bed every night.

Somehow I immediately fell asleep the moment he bid me good night and smoothed the bangs out of my eyes. I am betting the warm milk with honey in it that he gave also helped. I have heard that warm milk is supposed to help you sleep better, but I had never tried that theory out before, it looks like there was some truth to it, but I didn't know that it was that fast acting.

Anyway, I had slept in this morning and it was mid-morning by the time I had gotten up. I had gotten up too late for breakfast, but lunch was just about ready. I had killed some time by reading about the Northern Wastes and the people who managed to live there (I was faintly reminded of Russia and the northern most parts of Europe like Finland, Sweden, and Norway).

Lunch was good; I was able to sit at the lonesome-looking table and kept it company for a change of pace. Elrond wasn't at the main table that was on the dais or even in the dining hall at all, so I felt no need to sit there and sat where I wanted by myself. I vaguely wonder why he wasn't here and where he was in the first place, but I found out not long after. Elrond was sitting in his office with a very pensive look on his face. His thoughtful frown didn't go away the moment I walked in, but, in fact, only deepened and became more pronounced.

Only two words came to mind:_ Uh-oh._

"Sehnae, I am afraid that I have some very bad news." My throat ran dry and I could remember my heart beat slowing down, almost like it stopped, before it starting beating faster and faster. My mind cleared and became blank, remaining that way for a few mere seconds, before thoughts starts to zoom around my head, dreadful thoughts. My worst fear was that either Laura or Glorfindel had been found dead and I pray to God that it was not so. I pleaded to Him that He would spare them and protect them from harm if they were actually in any trouble.

"What is it?"

"There are skirmishes-that means some trouble-by the northern borders and Glorfindel with the rest of the guards stationed up there will be very will not be coming back for another week or so. He sends his regards." I could remember the _relief_ I had felt when he said that Glorfindel was fine and only busy. That Glorfindel would be coming back, but later than what was originally planned.

But then I felt the disappointment upon realizing that I wouldn't see him for another week. I couldn't stop myself from making an upset sound with a sulky expression crossing my face. "May I be by myself today, please? I don't feel well."

"You may go do what you wish, Sehnae. Just do not wander too far, stay within sight of the Last Homely House, library, or one of the stables."

"Yes, Mister Elrond." I stated flatly.

"I will see you at dinner, Sehnae." I nodded before leaving without another word. The first thing I did was go back to my room, barely making it there before I threw my fit. I ran to the bed and threw myself on it with such a force that I bounced slightly. I grabbed my pillow my buried my face in it. I screamed into it as much as I want knowing that no one would be able to hear me, since my shouts and cry of disappointment and anger were muffled by the soft material of the pillow. I flailed my body and kicked my legs like any normal kid who was the age I appeared to be.

I didn't care anymore that I was throwing a temper tantrum fit for any four-year-old. I was angry and upset and so _disappointed. _Even after my hissy-fit and even though I felt drained of energy, those feelings still pervaded and let my other negative emotions out off that metaphorical-closet I stuffed them in. My fit wasn't enough for me to feel better and I could feel another one starting to I did like I did last time I felt upset, I cleaned. I cleaned up the whole place until everything was absolutely spotless. However, even that failed to make me feel better.

...So I pushed over a stack of important looking papers that were previously in a neat pile until I shoved them over.

You would not _believe_ how _satisfying_ that was.

So I did it again.

And again.

And again until all the neat stacks of paper were on the floor. I messed up the couch and beds, threw clothes onto the floor, tossed books of shelves, and made general chaos. When I finished, I surveyed the damage, breathing hard, before letting out a long and heavy sigh. I proceeded to start cleaning up again and didn't stop until the place was back into its original spotless condition.

By then, all the anger was spent and I was left with my disappointment, sadness, and a bit of loneliness. All I felt like doing at that moment was wallowing in my own self-pity. I didn't want to do it here though; I didn't want to do it in Glorfindel's now spotlessly clean home. I decided to go to the library and the moment I arrived there I went into the darkest, quietest, and most hidden corner I could find, so I could mope and sulk in peace. I couldn't do that for very long before I fell asleep and took a nice long nap.

The one reason I didn't go find my substitute-sister-figure, was because I couldn't stand to look at Erestor's face today. It was too much like my sister's than what was wanted with my already foul mood today. What I wanted was a pity-party without any logical reasoning or any sympathy (which I doubted I would get from Erestor anyway, but that was besides the point). It wasn't very often that I felt sorry for myself and I felt that now was as good of a time as any. I promised myself that the first chance I got I was going to go punch fate on the nose.

But the real root of the problem was that I wanted, no, _needed_ my sister...

'Oh, Laura, where are you?'

* * *

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

**_Translations: *_**Cerweth - July.

*Urui - August

*Penneth - little one

*Calaer - Light of the Sea

*_Klein und aufgekratzt,_  
_Ein delikat malend._  
_Sanft Blumenblätter,_  
_Ein Regenbogen anstecken._

_Ruhig blau und schier grün.  
Gelinde weiß, die tönen tief._

_Sonne Wärme._  
_Mond Trittbretter,_  
_Zwielicht und bleich._  
_Tanzend in ein verspielt Brise._

_Ein Lied so süßlich weich  
Von Erinnerungen und misst Zeit weg_

So small and bright,  
such a delicate sight.  
Silken petals,  
a rainbow light

Tranquil blue and pure green  
Gentle white, the shade deep

Sun's warmth  
Moon's steps,  
twilight and pale.  
Dancing in a playful breeze.

A song so sweetly soft  
Of memories and times away

**_Explanations:_**

*Yes, I am well aware that it says absolutely nowhere in cannon that Glorfindel is the reincarnation of Gil-galad and that they are two utterly different people. However, I have a reason for all of this that will become very integral to the story later on. Also I understand that the cannon timeline does not work out very well, either. So, I fixed it, as noted in a previous chapter, but here it is again.

**(I – denotes First Age, II – denotes Second Age, III – Third Age)**

_~ I 445 – Ereinion (Gil-Galad) was born_

_~ I 510 – Fall of Gondolin, Glorfindel was killed._

_~ II 3441 – The Last Alliance, Gil-Galad was killed._

_~ III 1974 – Battle of Fornost, The first time that Glorfindel is mentioned, so we can assume he returned from the West before this time.I had changed my mind about his previous date of birth and decided that he came over the Great ship with the Istari._

So the dates really, really don't work out. Basically, I'm making Gil-Galad's birth a hundred years later.

**(I – denotes First Age, II – denotes Second Age, III – Third Age)**

_~ I 510 – Fall of Gondolin, Glorfindel was killed._

_~ I 545 – Ereinion (Gil-Galad) was born._

_~ II 3441 – The Last Alliance, Gil-Galad was killed._

_~ III 1050 - Glorfindel's assumed re-embodiment._

This story is AU technically, just by having Honor Rae and Laura added, but now it is undeniably AU. ;)

* * *

*****El-something-or-other and El-what's-his-face is Elrond.

*****Aladin is Elladan.

*****Rohere is Elrohir.

*The saying "pleased as punch" actually has a funny origin. Pleased as Punch derives from the puppet character Mr. Punch, a puppet used in the 16th century Italian _Commedia dell'arte_. Punch character is depicted as self-satisfied and delighted with his evil deeds, squawking "That's the way to do it!" whenever he dispatches another victim. Interesting, huh?

*Lindîn is an original character by my co-author's creation. She has also appeared in her other story, 'Learning how to Dance in the Rain.' she tells me she is planning to write a story about her and Thranduil later on, just a heads up.

*Yes, we just went there. In this fan fiction, Legolas is a space-cadet. He is like Luna Lovegood on a less extreme level. He gets this from his mother. We got this from the Book-Legolas, that this one as a mutated book-Legolas. :)

*The saying 'closer than a sword and a scabbard' is my co-author's grandpa's idiom that she used in place of the overdone 'closer than two fish in a skillet' or 'closer than two peas in a pod.' If you want to use it, that's fine, but link us to your fan fiction so we can read it! We are looking for more good 'Lord of the Rings' fan fictions.

*My co-author's baby sister still does that, especial when you set her down outside on uneven terrain. Her backyard has uneven lumps in the grass, so she stumbles around like a drunken man or runs like a capuchin monkey.

*Oh, Erestor. You make us all laugh; seriously, he is comedy gold. One of the best sentences The Authoress have ever written: Take off all his clothes and run away with them…

*If anyone could draw a picture of Glorfindel being a paper-pusher or weight-lifting stacks of printer paper while he is wearing a button up white shirt and tie, we would love you forever. Seriously.

Please do _not_ drink so excessively that you get intoxicated. One or two is okay, anything more than that is not okay. You will lose control of yourself and do something you _will_ regret. That being said, we also do **_not_** approve minors drinking before age consent unless in the presence of a _responsible _adult and you are at least _sixteen. _Do _not_ drink and drive/operate machinery/babysit/do job. It is not professional and is extremely dangerous. Make good life choices people. Please.

*Elvish hearing is about as good as a cat or dog's as well as their sense of smell. The Authoress was hard pressed to find out how good their eye-sight is, but this is her best estimate. Legolas in the books was able to see the Rohirim from twelve leagues away. One league equals three nautical miles. One nautical mile equals 6,080 feet. 5,280 equals one statute mile (or in layman's terms, one regular mile). Here comes the math:

_12 leagues X 3 nautical miles = 36 nautical miles. _

_36 nautical miles X 6,080 feet = 218,880 feet._

_218,880 feet / 5,280 feet = 41.455 statute miles._

So elves can clearly see about forty miles away, fancy that. ;)

*Thank you, Mr. Moffit. The Authoress' World History teacher was the one who taught me all she knows about Buddha.

*Please, if you have been abused, tell _someone_. It makes you feel _so_ much better._Please tell a trusted adult, _one who you know will not dither around before trying to talk to the causing the abuse because they want to know if that person is aware of it.** _No one should have to suffer and feel so utterly and absolutely alone and helpless. _**

*The Athoress has slightly altered a quote from the book, _'The Power of One.' _Read it. Read that book and its sequel. She commands you. ;)

*We have nothing against gay people. Some of our friends are gay. So please, if you take offense from this, it wasn't our intention and we apologize.

*That empty table Sehnae is talking about is revered for the rangers. Not because the elves are racist or anything (even though they totally can be), but because there are times when there are so many rangers dropping by that they take up a whole table. Sometimes even two tables are used up. As for elves being racist, this will probably be explained more in chapter sixteen.

* The Authoress put that thought that Sehnae had in the chapter on purpose. She tells me she couldn't resist, since they (both Sehnae and Solreen) were put in a book that came alive.

*Does anyone remember Ripley's-Believe-It-Or-Not book and TV show? We used to read the books and watch the shows all the time when we were little girls. I believe the TV show is no longer on the air. :(

*The Authoress tells me she actually didn't know what the circlet was called either until she read a Fan Fiction where it said that and then read the books again. She used to refer to it as either a tiara or a crown, one of the two.

*The animals liking the elves to this extent is also a tiny bit AU and how The Authoress interprets the books. Legolas says something similar to what Elrond told Sehnae in the first book of the Trilogy, _'The Fellowship of the Ring.' _The fellowship was in Holland and Legolas told them how none of the nature around them was old enough to remember the elves that used to be there, save for the rocks. Somewhere along the paragraph or two she got the impression that nature likes elves and remembers them for a long time. Thank you, space-cadet Legolas. :D

*we both can see Elrond being a family guy, (please refrain from making any references to the Guiles theme or that insipid television show). He seems like the type who would really like children- as would most elves, but I digress. He would most certainly be a doting father, but unlike most 'doting fathers', he can be tough if he needs to be.

*The theory about elf twins and twins in general is The Authoress'. If you want to use it, go ahead; just remember to send us a link to your story, because we positively would love to read it.

*The same thing applies with elvish marriages/weddings/bonding.

*The same thing applies with the sleeping habits of elflings.

*The slippers Sehnae is talking about are not like the fuzzy pink bunny ones you probably own (The Authores owns some fuzzy green slipper-boots with what looks like dragon scales on them that apparently have a green bow on the back by the brand _Candy_). Those mentioned in this chapter are far far more similar to the ones Legolas is mentioned to be wearing on the mountain.

*Yay! First time someone thinks Sehnae looks feminine, _finally._ Niether of us have a clue of a clue when they will find out that she is actually a girl, it will definitely be in the second arc, though, probably in her second or third year there. Maybe sooner, we don't know.

*The Authoress tells me she wanted to use the phrasing, 'like a deer caught in the headlights,' but then she realized that Elrond wouldn't know what headlights are. So she obviously improvised.

*Spoilers! The Authoress has hidden spoilers within the meadow scene. If you want to know what they are, type in 'Language of the Flowers' and then type in the flowers that were at the meadow one at a time. They should give you some clues to (a) future event(s).

*Not meaning to toot my own horn here, but the Flower Song was written and translated by yours truly. :D

*There is also a translation available in spanish, if you want I can tack that on to the author's note next chapter or have it posted on one of our accounts.

*Both Sehnae and Solreen will be mentally regressing throughout the story until their bodies start catching up.

*Yes, The Authoress spelt 'eying' correctly or, at least, in America she did. She believes that in England and most other countries it is spelled 'eyeing.' She also tells me she was actually typing and retyping that word for several minutes before she gave in and googled the word.

*Elrond the Grand. *Snorts.* The Authoress tells me she actually could see him doing Dragon and Warrior(s) with both his sons and Arwen later on. *snorts again*

*Yes, she quoted Boromir. Deal with it, because it was completely unintentional and wasn't realized until later.

*Lei, noun: A beautiful flower necklace Hawaiians will bestow upon tourists, A legend says that if you release your lei into the sea and wish for something, the lei will come back to you and your wish will be granted… The Authoress says she is still waiting for that lei.

* We could see Elrond being able to cast others into a deep sleep. Much like the 'voice magic" that was mentioned back in chapter five, this is something only _very_ old elves, wizards, and anomalies like Tom Bombadil can do.

*Another name for Sweetling is the common violet.

*The story about chicory is a slight adaption from the sad German legend. The story about the Sweetling is one hundred percent of Elrond's creation (The Authoress' really, but Elrond needs a bit of ego-stroking since she made him look more like an elfling than an elf-lord in this chapter, silly Elrond). :D

* The Authoress charcoals all of her marshmallows…on purpose. She cooks them until their insides are nice and gooey and the outside is a light-golden-brown color and then she sets it on fire. I've seen her do that... It is beyond my comprehension.

*Yes, Sehnae is mostly unaware that she is speaking another language, quite honestly, she hasn't given it much thought at all.

*The Authoress was kind of worried at first that Elrond was a little bit out of character, but then she realized that he would have most definitely done that with his own children when they were around that age. So, she stopped worrying. =)

* The Authoress said that she had warm milk with honey once, just to try it. she got a burned tongue and it failed to work for her. What was really sending Sehnae to sleep was Elrond's mental biddings. Elf Lord powers, nothing more need be said.

**Thought Process: **Wow, this story is turning out to be a lot like a soap opera, isn't it? :/ Ah well.

I'm kinda really excited about writing this first Author's note (at least in part).

The Authoress is extremely sorry that she didn't update in April like she said she would, but life got in the way. And sadly for you guys, it is going to keep on getting in the way for both of us. So the next update is going to be on July the nineteenth, hopefully the super long chapter should equal two updates for you and tide you over. Please don't hang us up to dry. This chapter is dedicated to May First. This author's note was brought to you in part by The Authoress and viewers like you! Thank you! =D

Happy Tuesday,

Well Wishes and Blessed Be,

-Sylwia Kiley and The Fan Fictional Authoress.

P.S. – We need your help! Yes, it turns out our plot line only extends into part-way through the next arc and only so far as chapter thirty.

PLEASE SEND IN YOUR IDEAS!

What do you want Honor Rae and Laura to do?

What do you want to happen to them?

Good things?

Bad things?

YOU DECIDE!

Please keep it G to PG-13. Remember: They ARE children at this point.

Thank you in advance and belated May First.

P.P.S.-Has anyone figured out Solreen's religion yet? PM us if you have/do.

_Date submitted: Wednesday, May 1, 2013. (Actual date: Tuesday May 14, 2013)._


	16. IMPORTANT NOTICE!

**IMPORTANT NOTICE(S):**

1) There will be **NO** more **UPDATES** until **July 19th, 2013**.

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2) **PLEASE VOTE** on the **POLL** on my **PROFILE**.

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3) Please **SUBMIT** any** IDEAS** or **SUGGESTIONS** you might have for** 'A Ring of Endless Light.'**

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_Thank you and Happy Tuesday,_

_ FFA, the Fan Fictional Authoress_


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